


The Shape of Stardust

by forlornTimekeeper



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Female Reader, Non-Graphic Violence, Reader-Insert, The Shape of Water AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-23 19:19:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14339283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forlornTimekeeper/pseuds/forlornTimekeeper
Summary: The other assets you work with don't speak, which is just as well because neither can you. You stick to your routine and deal with the predictable issues as they come - just like clockwork. However, the new asset refuses to abide by the formalities of structure, and once it learns how to communicate with you, it shakes you down to the depths of your core. You never realized just how alone in this world you really felt until it showed you.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a totally compulsive decision so I cannot be held accountable for how infrequently this updates.

The alarm didn’t startle you awake anymore, in fact, it had become a welcome noise, one that pulled you from the fearful vulnerability of sleep. You felt much safer awake. Two more angry chirps and you shut it off, fully alert and ready to start the work day.

You untangled yourself from the warm feather comforter and listened to the sounds your bare feet made on the wood floor, all the way to your modest kitchen. You filled the kettle with water and put it on to boil. While you waited you slipped out the side door to your apartment – a small converted storage room above the city’s planetarium. The metal of the spiral staircase was cool against your skin, cooler than the early morning air.

The sun hadn’t risen yet, and neither had most of the city’s people. It was still quiet and hushed, and once you were on the roof you took in a deep breath and looked up.

The stars brought you out every morning, you’d learned to identify them thanks to the free admission to the planetarium that your rent money covered. You raised a hand and pointed at each familiar constellation, signing their names with your hands in a gesture of good morning. A shiver ran down your spine, more from the pleasure at the opportunity to see such beauty than from the cold.

You could faintly hear the kettle begin to whistle, and you took the stairs back down two at a time. While your tea steeped in your thermos you methodically ran through the rest of your morning routine. Brush teeth, floss, brush hair, pin up, wash face, get dressed. It was simple and easy to adhere to, and took up the perfect amount of time to steep the perfect cup of tea. It was the big thermos today, so eight cubes of sugar.

Your little brown heels were by the door, and you’d perfected slipping them on and locking your door behind you in one fluid motion. The sun had just peaked over the inlet when you stepped outside. You pulled your coat tight and began your walk.

Two blocks down was the bakery, where you picked up a dozen preordered donuts every day; half glazed, half powdered. You signed a ‘thank you’ in exchange for the box and left, taking a quick sniff of the cooked sugar. A glazed donut would go nicely with the black tea you made this morning.

The bus ride to work was quiet as usual, not many people took the first route of the day. Especially not when it went to part of the local military base. You worked at a holding facility on the coast of Virginia, about twenty minutes from the Air Force base. There was an old lighthouse a few miles from the facility that you watched for during your morning commute. Seeing the brick tower against the orange sky always made you smile.

The bus let you off by the guard tower, and one other woman exited behind you. She shouldered past you, just as she did every morning, and you clutched the donuts and tea thermos to your chest. The guard smiled while he checked your ID and signed a shaky ‘good morning’ after he gave it back, wishing you a safe shift.

You nodded, smiling to yourself the whole elevator ride down to your floor. The cool underground air blew against your face as you stepped out and in line to punch your timecard. The heavy clunk of machinery had always been a satisfying sound to you, it helped get you into the mindset for your job.

The clack of your heels against the polished concrete helped keep you mentally focused, essential for your position.

“Hey beautiful~”

You turned and smiled, signing “ _Good morning Gretchen, how are you?_ ”

“I’m doing good. Going to pick up your assignment?”

“ _Yes, will I see you today?_ ”

Her heels were a bit louder than yours, but she peeked around for passing ears anyhow. “I think so, I heard some talk about something new coming in today. You know how the handlers can’t keep their mouths shut.”

While you were excited to see Gretchen during your shift, the idea of a new asset always made your stomach turn. It was a significant change to your routine.

Gretchen raised her hand to you and veered off to another part of the building for her shift. Colonel Membrane was in charge of the holding facility, she was his secretary. You were the statistical bookkeeper for the Colonel’s son, Dr. Membrane. His father didn’t know about his relationship with Gretchen, but you did. Gretchen and Dr. Membrane also vented their feelings to you – separately – without the other knowing. It kept work interesting.

“Good morning!” Dr. Membrane looked up from a scattered pile of reports on his desk, the long scythe lock of hair jouncing as his head bobbed. “Hey, try and make a quick run this morning, huh? We’re getting a new asset today, I want you to be there.”

You set the box of donuts on your desk and began reaching out for your work tablet, then a thought struck you, and it exhausted all of your morning caffeine. “ _Sir, is it necessary that I be present?_ ”

Dr. Membrane tilted his head at you. “Well, you’re the one they’re going to see every day. Good first impression and all, right?”

It wasn’t worth an argument, you’d been able to avoid so far, you could skate by another day. Another asset. You nodded and picked up your tablet, scanning over the same routine you’d had for almost two years. It never changed without notice, you didn’t know why you bothered looking anymore.

Your job was simple, but was by no means easy. You couldn’t ask questions about the assets; where they came from, how they were acquired, why they were there in the first place. All you were allowed to do was enter their holding cells, measure and record the same set of data, and leave. For a while you wondered why you’d been chosen for the position, having lacked any military background, formal education beyond high school, and family service members.

It hit you one night while you were home alone.

So far, all of the assets you kept statistical records of existed and operated in 4D, the fourth density, or above. They didn’t speak, like you didn’t speak. There was no verbal language or communication of any kind. Just telepathy. A piercing and invasive method that was just as painful as it was intimate. If one of them fried your brain in an attempt to control you, to make an escape, you were easy to replace.

Luckily, there were only two of your daily twenty-seven assets that went out of their way to watch you suffer. If it was only for a moment. The rest simply acknowledged your presence by locking their focus to you, never interfering with your assessments.

The information was simple, too. Basic things like height, weight, age if known, classification of species, planetary origin, etc. The rest fluctuated, was usually cyclic: hormonal ratios, eating patterns, heat seasons, episodes of aggression. It disgusted you on a small level, that these vastly more intelligent beings – none of which looked whatsoever human – were treated like animals.

Every single asset on your data sheet came from a civilization that was capable of space travel, interdimensional travel, probably even time travel. Their understanding of mathematics and advanced sciences made humans like you, like Dr. Membrane even, look like illiterate children. And yet here they were, locked up dozens of feet underground, as military experiments.

Your seventh asset was the worst by far, and your hand shook every time you raised your keycard to the door. The metal slab heaved itself into the wall, grinding against the concrete and iron track.

It was always watching for you, waiting. It knew your schedule better than you did, and counted on you like clockwork. The datasheet had it labeled simply as ‘draco,’ no scientific Latin breakdown. Everyone knew what it was, sugar coating was pointless.

While it certainly wasn’t the ugliest or hardest asset to look at, it was absolutely the worst. Well, second worst, only to a being you felt a sickening connection to despite its generally cordial attitude. Still, you favored the aggressive eleven foot lizard with wings any day. Mostly it was the eyes that got you, the way the pupils pulsed and the irises fluctuated through the color spectrum in an effective hypnotic fashion.

Two security guards always followed you in, but stayed right by the door, making sure that you were always the center of the draco’s attention. Most of its data never changed, you could copy and paste the information in a matter of minutes. But the relentless pounding against your mind, the onslaught of repulsive threats made your job take twice as long. The headache always came first, and once that wall was torn down, it was like a torrent of howling voices. About halfway through the analysis was usually when you began to hyperventilate, and every day, you almost looked it dead in the eye, just like it wanted you to.

You shook your head vigorously, forced your eyes on your work tablet only, and finished imputing the data before your empty stomach tried to heave. The guards followed you out, had a glass of water handy with a little purple pill, and rubbed your back until the panic faded away.

Most of the assets didn’t even phase you anymore, regardless of how unhuman they looked. But _that_ thing. It was responsible for at least half of your nightmares.

You were on the first lunch shift, a courtesy by Colonel Membrane to make sure you had something to eat as soon as possible after your morning rounds. It had taken your first three months of vomiting in the bathrooms for an hour before he took your suffering seriously. It was right after a report was filed when an older man stationed as security died of a heart attack immediately after he saw something he hadn’t been briefed for.

You always ate lunch alone, there wasn’t anyone around for you to sign with, nobody ever bothered. Gretchen and Dr. Membrane were the only two who understood you, and neither could sign back. Well, they learned ‘thank you.’

After lunch you made your trek back to Dr. Membrane’s office to drop off the tablet so he could download the statistics later. He was about right where you left him, too. Only this time his head was stuck under the desk. Four of the powdered donuts had already been eaten.

You knocked against the door to get his attention, wincing when he bumped his head trying to stand up. “ _I finished, sir._ ”

He smile and adjusted his glasses. “Perfect! I hope nobody gave you any trouble.”

“ _Just Godzilla._ ” It was a nickname in poor taste, but it had caught on through the whole facility thanks to the Colonel.

The Dr. nodded sheepishly. “You know if there was anything I could do, I – “

You shook your head politely. “ _As long as the restraints hold I won’t complain._ ”

He swallowed the horrific notion, nodding. “Yeah, well... Why don’t we head down to the new holding cell? I think we deserve a little change of pace, don’t you think?”

“ _Sure._ ” A change of pace for him usually meant a whole slew of issues for other people. There was a lot of logistical power behind making sure the scientists were happy and well supplied, and you didn’t exactly get out scot-free either.

The new holding cell was a bit more top of the line, with its own in house computer and a new magnetic force field restraining system. The room itself wasn’t impressive, still the same dingy colored concrete, ugly military green colored appliances, and the wet dirt smell.

Aside from yourself and the Dr., there were only a few other people; a small security team and some middle-aged man with a white button-down shirt and a clipboard. You snapped your fingers to get the Dr.’s attention.

“ _Where are the restraints?_ ”

He smiled giddily, pointing to a painted yellow semicircle that butted up against the back wall. “That line is the edge of the magnetic force field. See that big yellow dot in the middle? About six inches buried in the concrete is the prime magnet. It’s connected to a pair of handcuffs, and once that baby is turned on, those cuffs don’t go past that yellow line.”

In other words, the asset would have full mobility inside the circle. Your gut churned uncomfortably. You picked at your hands before signing nervously, “ _I don’t know that I’m comfortable with an asset having that much freedom._ ”

Dr. Membrane opened his mouth, then closed it as the cell door opened. His father, the Colonel, strode in with Gretchen at his side – another small group of people trailing behind. You watched her smile at the two of you, her eyes lingering on the other for a split second longer. Subtle, but obvious to anyone paying half as much attention as you.

“Ladies and gentleman,” he said, his voice echoing off the walls in gusto. “I’m very excited to announce the arrival of our newest asset. Usually we cut right to the chase and move on with our lives, but this time there’s a few notable differences I need you all to be aware of.”

Gretchen snuck over to stand next to the two of you, and you could see where she’d been worrying at the inside of her cheek all morning. She was nervous, and never for nothing. “All I’ll say, is don’t be fooled.”

The hushed tone of her voice in its seriousness made your shoulders tense and hands shake. You didn’t think you were ready for another potentially difficult asset. You felt your skin growing clammy all over again.

“Despite these differences,” the Colonel continued, “I want everyone to remain on high alert at all times. This thing isn’t coming in with any useful information, so don’t assume anything.”

Once you saw the task force come in through the door you clutched onto Gretchen’s sleeve, biting your lip to keep your jaw from clenching. There were four men in lightweight close combat body armor wheeling in a metal casket-like box, clamp sealed with an external oxygen support system.

They wheeled the box just up to the yellow line, unlatched the lid, and tossed the asset into the semicircle. Two of them stood by with their electrical batons ready, just in case the force field didn’t hold.

You peeked around from behind Gretchen, and was shaken by what you saw.

“ _A person?_ ” you signed erratically. You snapped at Gretchen. “ _That’s a person!_ ”

And it did look like a person. A human. Someone you could’ve passed by on the street without a second glance. This didn’t look like an asset, it looked like a _mistake_.

There were murmurs going around the room while the “asset” stood up, hunched over and breathing heavily.

Colonel Membrane called for attention. “Remember what I said, it looks like us, but it’s aggressive and dangerous.”

Your breath hitched as you watched the asset charge for the Colonel, screeching with a ferocity no human or animal should ever be capable of. It bared its teeth and hissed, looking to jump the man responsible for its capture – only, while its body passed over the line, the cuffs around its wrists did not.

It was jerked back, stunted by its own velocity. It snarled in confusion, irritation, and tugged against the invisible magnetic wall.

Colonel Membrane walked easily up to the new addition to the facility, twirling his own baton flagrantly. “I don’t know what you are yet, other than military property. But I will find out, I always do, so it would be in your best interest to cooperate.”

The asset glared upwards, bested by almost a foot in height. “Or what?”

You gasped audibly.

The Colonel flicked a switch on his baton and jammed it straight into the center of the thing’s chest, causing it howl and cry in pain.

It fell to the floor, grunting and coughing for air, its body convulsing at the electrical shocks ran their course.

“Or that.” The Colonel turned to give his team orders, then joined yours. “Son, I want you and your little mute friend to start a spreadsheet. This thing can talk, wouldn’t hardly shut up on the way here as I heard it. Get what you can, and what you can’t I will. Gretchen, you’re with me.”

You and Dr. Membrane were very quickly the only two left in the room, and a familiar heaving sensation threatened to come over you. Somehow, this seemed worse than the giant lizard.


	2. Chapter 2

Dr. Membrane worked on getting the computer up and running to begin remote monitoring. You could hear him blabbering to himself, but you were too stricken with fear to focus much on what he was saying.

It was staring at you. The same primal sort of dominance the draco embodied. But you expected that sort of behavior from a predatory species. The fact that this “human” could pull it off made it much more unsettling. You waited for the headache to come, all the little signs that it was trying mentally assault you. You waited and continued to feel nothing.

It just kept staring.

Dr. Membrane called your name, startling you back to full attention. “Try syncing your tablet, I think I’ve got it configured now.”

You nodded absently, setting up a new data sheet and waiting for the computer’s information to input itself into the labeled columns. The Colonel had been right, nothing much other than height and weight came up. No species information, known origin, dietary needs. Nothing. You were now working with something that looked human and could be capable of any horrific fantasy you could imagine.

You grabbed one of the metal chairs and sat down, bending over to put your head between your knees and level your breathing. Technically you never signed up for this sort of work, but somehow you found the wherewithal to power through every day. When you sat back up, Dr. Membrane looked concerned.

“Are you all right? I can send you back to the office if you’d rather.”

You almost – _almost_ – signed a reply. But you made a point to never sign in front of the assets. It wasn’t like they didn’t know you were mute or had to use your hands to communicate, they were all in your head digging through your personal thoughts and memories. But signing had become to intimately personal to you as you got older, simply because so few others could do it. You didn’t want the assets catching on and using it against you. It was personal, and you’d rather keep it that way.

You shook your head, and that was all.

Dr. Membrane walked over to take your tablet from you. “Why don’t you relax a minute, I’ll see what I can get myself, okay?”

Nod. Smile. Breathe.

So you watched, and listened.

The Dr. strode up to the yellow line, just out of biting distance from the asset. “So you speak, English no less. Are you capable of telepathic communication?”

The asset, a boy really, offered a glare, but didn’t speak.

“Any form of fourth or higher density abilities?”

Silence.

“How about a name?”

His eyes might have squinted just a hair more.

“A gender?”

The hint of a smirk.

“Any willingness to cooperate whatsoever?”

The smirk widened into a fair smile, his tongue gliding across his teeth. “How about, fuck you?”

You didn’t mean to laugh by any means, not that it made any sound, but it was still rude. You held a hand up to your mouth, trying to keep your eyes neutral.

Dr. Membrane scoffed. “Ha ha, very funny, you learned a curse word. Listen, this would be easier on everyone if you just gave us what we wanted. I don’t have a baton because I’m not a _savage_ , but the guards posted outside do.”

It, he, the asset laughed. Not big and full, but it was an easily distinguishable laugh. “Are you trying to threaten me, four eyes?”

You pursed your lips together tight.

“Evidently you’ve been here long enough to pick up nuanced slang. Most assets don’t have the emotional capacity for that sort of humor. You must still be heavily third density.” Dr. Membrane walked back over to you and forfeited your tablet. “Go ahead and fill out the physical description, I’ll see what I can do with the computer.”

You nodded and placed the tablet in your lap over your smoothed pencil skirt, then started filling in information. The asset, presumably male for now, looked like he could be anywhere between eighteen and twenty-six by human standards. He wore dark jeans, black high-top shoes, looked like Converse, and a simple printed polo shirt. His hair was dark, cut shorter in the back, and he looked to be built maybe like a runner.

Totally and completely unassuming. Normal. Someone you might bump into by accident, where your cheeks turned red when they smiled and apologized because you couldn’t say anything back. The kind of socially attractive person that might distract you for a few days, with a kind smile and gentle hands. Someone you probably wouldn’t regret losing your virginity to even if you never married simply because they were too loving in the moment to ever inspire animosity in your heart.

Conclusion: he was as dangerous as he was normal looking, and until you found out exactly what he was, you couldn’t trust him.

“What’s your deal?”

Although, the simple fact that he could talk where the others could not did a lot to unravel you internally. Being able to communicate verbally seemed to illicit a sense of common ground, something you could relate to despite your inability to actually make any noise.

“I know you’re not deaf.”

He was also a little rude. You wondered where he’d been for so long to pick up his behavioral patterns. You made note of it for later, just in case Dr. Membrane deemed it worthy of analysis.

“You don’t look very useful.”

Suddenly your frustration flared, and in a moment of defensive anger, you almost raised your hands to tell him off. But you caught yourself, and instead opened a blank white document to type a response, and showed him the screen.

**I am not authorized to speak to you.**

Or sign, or make any attempt at communication. But as long as he was assuming that you were _choosing_ not to speak, you felt a little bit safer.

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. “That’s a little childish, don’t you think?”

Dr. Membrane slammed his fists against the computer desk. “Alright, _listen_. If you can’t be anything but an insufferable ass, I’ll just skip the formalities and start treating you like Pavlov’s dog. Leave my assistant _alone_.”

The asset raised his eyebrows and whistled. “Wow, a little defensive over an _assistant_. You guys fuck in your office or something?”

There was about two seconds of time where you blacked out and threw your tablet onto the concrete. But you were entirely aware of the tears flowing down your cheeks in embarrassment as you stormed out of the cell and marched to the sanctity of the women’s locker room. Where it was empty and quiet and no one would bother you.

It took the better part of ten minutes to work through your anger and hurt feelings, rocking back and forth on the metal bench. The crying was easy to stop once you got a handle on your breathing, the rest of you calmed after that.

You heard the door open and close, and your body tensed at the intrusion.

“Hey, what happened?” It was Gretchen, and her wonderful soothing voice. She took a seat next to you and began to rub at your shoulders. “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head vigorously and pulled away from her so she could watch the erratic movements of your hands. “ _It’s different when_ they _insult me, but he can talk. And he’s rude and vulgar and has no respect for other people._ ”

Gretchen tilted her head and her eyes dropped fully to your hands. “I’m sorry it’s being so difficult, can I ask what it said?”

You sighed, feeling dirty for having to repeat his words. You looked away while you signed to her, and felt the need to wipe your hands on your skirt when you were done.

“Oh... well that _was_ vulgar and rude.” She paused, twiddling her thumbs. “Would you feel better if I could get a pair of guards to escort you inside? I could talk to the Colonel, see if he’ll show some pity.”

You huffed. “ _It wouldn’t keep him from insulting me. But thank you._ ”

She nodded. “At least now you know what to expect, so just get yourself back together and show it that you’re stronger than you look. You’ve dealt with meaner and uglier, if anyone can deal with that thing, it’s you.” Her smile was small and warm, and made you feel much better about yourself.

Nodding, you stood and brushed out your skirt, then looked yourself over in the mirror. After blotting your face dry and taking a few deep breaths, you marched out of the locker room and right back into the holding cell.

Dr. Membrane was having a heated conversation with one of the security personnel, but when he saw you with Gretchen, his face fell with guilt. “Look, why don’t I work something out with my father, I can leave this one off your list.”

You held up a hand and shook your head, finding the asset with your hardened gaze. He stood towards the center of his semicircle with his arms folded across his chest, and his eyes lax and unimpressed with you.

You grabbed your tablet off of the work table and typed out a succinct message, turning the device around in your hands for him to read.

**I’ve dealt with worse than you. Now that I know what you’re capable of you won’t be able to manipulate me. It would be in your best interest to cooperate.**

As he read through your message the smirk on his lips grew wider. He strode up to the edge of yellow line, bracing his handcuffs against the unseen force field above his head for support, and leaned forward to look as far down on you as he could. “Sweetheart, you have _no idea_ what I’m capable of.”

The shiver than ran up your spine made your shoulders twitch, but you smiled anyway and turned to leave the holding cell. He was Dr. Membrane’s problem for the rest of the day anyway, the remainder of your shift was to be spent in the office with your statistics.

He popped in every now and then to check on you, wordlessly emptying the box of donuts little by little. Sometimes if you got your work done early you could leave by four, but the addition of a new asset kept you until almost seven. You were back in the comfort of your apartment by eight, fed and tucked in by ten, and awake and back at work the next morning by nine sharp. A routine you could rely on, clockwork precision, a step by step process that adhered strictly to schedule. Every other asset had come to accept this process, but he did not.


	3. Chapter 3

You dropped off the box of fresh donuts onto Dr. Membrane’s desk, signing a good morning. It looked like he was trying to pair off files he’d gotten mixed up.

“ _What happened?_ ”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, the long signature lock defying him. “Well, the security changed shifts this morning at about two, and evidently nobody had gotten briefed on the new asset.” He stood and tossed down an open file. “One of the guards got into with him and now he might lose an arm.”

You looked at the photo on the top of the medical records. The guard’s right arm had been stripped of its armor and undershirt, and there was a messy chunk of flesh missing. It looked like he’d been bitten, but the edges were jagged, there were no clean cuts.

“ _That’s awful. How is he?_ ”

Dr. Membrane huffed and looked down at the picture. “Right now he thinks he’s the toughest guy here, but I bet he’ll start crying the moment he gets a bad word from the doctor.”

“ _And the asset?_ ”

“Still an ass. But we got a few boxes of stuff they confiscated from its apartment.”

You jerked your head back. “ _He had an apartment?_ ”

He put a hand on your shoulder and pursed his lips. “Look, this thing played the system, and was really good at it. The only thing we’ve learned so far is that it’s got a nasty set of teeth. Otherwise, it’s no different than you or me, and that makes it dangerous. Be careful on your rounds today, okay?”

You nodded and swiped your tablet off the desk, eager to get through your data collection and eat lunch. There wasn’t anything of note to report except for the draco, it had tilted its head and taken a wary sniff at you before beginning its usual barrage of intrusive and uncomfortable thoughts. You wondered if it smelled something on you.

The office was empty when you returned to ask for Dr. Membrane. There was a note on his desk saying that he’d be with the new asset and to bring the box of donuts. You tucked the tablet under your arm and carried the box and your thermos of tea down to the holding cell, taking a deep breath before flashing your access card.

Nothing had changed aside from the chair they’d given him to sit on. He was hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees, looking bored.

Dr. Membrane waved you over and thanked you for the donuts. “Still can’t get him to say anything useful, but we’ve got a couple guys taking inventory of those boxes. When they’re done I’ll look through them and see what I can find. You don’t have to stick around here if you aren’t comfortable.”

You caught your hands as they rose to reply, and tucked them tightly against your sides with a nod. But you did want to stick around, at least for a little while. Spending time around assets was the quickest way to get used to them. So you took a seat in the last available chair and ran through the data you’d collected that morning, just trying to distract yourself. There was a shuffle, but you didn’t look up, until you heard something clunk down a few feet away from you.

He’d moved the chair to sit and face you, as close to the yellow line as he could get.

You barely spared him enough of a glance to see that he was staring at you, and continued your pointless double checking. Things were quiet for a few minutes, and you thought he might get bored of your silence and find somewhere else to stare.

“I mean I know you understand English, do you just not speak it?”

No, you weren’t playing this game. Communication was not authorized. You recorded statistics and that was it. You didn’t get paid to do anything else.

“What about Spanish?”

Oh for the love of God.

“German?”

No.

“Italian?”

No.

“French?”

No.

“Russian? Are you a Russian spy?”

You slapped your tablet against your legs and glowered at him. Which was surprisingly hard to do when he was smiling so sweetly at you. He had a very symmetrical face, but his smile was just a hair lopsided, though his eyes were big and curious. You looked back down and pointedly ignored him.

He sighed and sagged back into his chair, going silent.

You found a few odd things to do to pass the time, and when Dr. Membrane left for the bathroom, you realized almost an hour had passed. A whole hour of blissful quiet.

“Now that I think of it, I haven’t seen you talk to anyone else. But you’ve got to, how else would you have a job?”

For fucks sake.

You typed him a message.

**Stop talking.**

He groaned in frustration. “Okay _fine_ , I’m sorry for what I said yesterday, I didn’t mean to offend you. But seriously, I was kidnapped from my home, dragged almost a hundred feet underground by the skin of my goddamn teeth, and thrown in a prison. What do you people _want_ from me?”

There was a sincerity in his voice that you’d never experienced from the other assets. They didn’t have the emotional capacity for complex feelings like you did. But he was third density, and somehow reminded you of it in the strangest of ways.

You looked at him, wanting to glare in another effort to keep him complacent. But when you looked at him this time there was some gentle force keeping you from turning away. You didn’t feel captivated, but you couldn’t stop staring. His breath caught for just a split second before his jaw dropped and the air left his lungs. He jerked his head away and gasped, digging his fingers into the metal of the chair to steady himself.

You went back to your work, scoffing at his poor attempt at psychological manipulation. Maybe next he’d try and tell you something had come over him and he needed medical attention. So predictable. It was a minute or so before you could feel his eyes on you again. You ignored it.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see him tuck his legs under each other, a position of relaxed comfort. “I think I get it now. You don’t talk to people at all, because you can’t.”

His words struck you so fast you didn’t know how to react. Even without being able to pull your mind apart he was still able to figure you out. And now you felt unsafe and vulnerable all over again. The hyperventilating came on quick, and you could feel the tears prick your eyes. You sat on your hands and stared at the floor, determined to regain control.

“Hey, hey, take it easy, it’s okay. I can sign too, if that would make you feel better.”

The bottom of your stomach dropped, and you looked back up with distrust in your eyes. He was using it against you, he was manipulating you and it was working.

He held his hands up with his palms facing you in a gesture of surrender, then slowly began to sign with his words. “I didn’t mean to upset you. But I can understand you, will you talk to me now?”

The temptation was overwhelming almost, a bizarre feeling you weren’t familiar with. You’d never had the desire to talk to any of the other assets before. You looked back at the door, fearful that Dr. Membrane would return and find you breaking your code of conduct.

But you had to say _something_.

“ _Talking to you is not part of my job._ ”

He looked annoyed for a second, then his face softened again, and his hands moved. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll give _you_ whatever information I can, as long as those guards don’t electrocute me, okay?”

Your heart fluttered at the notion that he’d only speak with you. By choice. But you couldn’t guarantee what he wanted. “ _I take orders, I don’t give them. And_ _I’m not authorized to make deals with the assets_.”

He rose from the chair and braced his handcuffs against the magnetic field, tilting his head down to look at you again. The hem of his polo shirt rose almost to his bellybutton, and the arch of his back pulled his jeans down just so, accentuating the subtle dip of his hips.

There was no chance you were able to look away quick enough, to hide the color of your cheeks before he saw. You were inches from him, he could probably smell your traitorous hormones. Using your legs you put another inch or two between you, feeling a little overwhelmed by just how much his height accentuated his slightly subdued predatory posture. When you glanced back up to see if he was still staring you down you saw the corner of his mouth twitch up.

Suddenly the air was too hot and you felt trapped and confined so many feet underground. You needed to go for a walk. So you took your tablet in a vice grip and nearly tripped over your own feet on your way out, passing Dr. Membrane as he came back from his bathroom break.

“Where are you going?”

You shook your head and waved your hand at him, breaking into a jog down the long corridor. The running helped keep you focused while the lurking depths of your mind tried to derail you. He was just trying to take advantage of you. He didn’t have the luxury of telepathically ripping through your mind, so he had to find other ways to do it. Anyone who spent five minutes on this planet knew that sex sold better than anything else, even when it tried to be modest. He was smart and learned how to use it against people, people like you

Yes, that sounded logical. Perhaps if you could just talk yourself down you’d be able to see through his devilish nature, pick apart his advances.

But were they advances? Perhaps you were taking his behavior a bit too far.

 _Or_ that’s just what he wanted you to think, to make you comfortable around him. After all, he did have the advantage of having the ability to establish some sort of familiarity with you, and you were easily flustered. An obvious target.

Stupid. You’d been stupid.

You sighed and came to a halt, leaning against the concrete wall. Stupid and lonely. It’d been so long, perhaps you’d assumed this whole time that you’d change. That you wouldn’t instantly latch onto the first person to show any remote interest.

Well that was fine, now you were onto his little game. You were learning from your mistakes, and taking note. He wouldn’t get you to falter twice for the same sultry gaze.

You shivered. Perhaps it was time to refill your tea thermos.

 _Dammit_. The thermos you’d left back in the holding cell.

No, that was fine. You needed to go back and verify the rest of your duties with Dr. Membrane anyway, you could just tell him that you needed to stretch your legs. You could make it, in and out, without even looking at him if you wanted to. That’s right, you were the employee, you were the one collecting statistical data, _you_ were the one in charge. And you’d make him damn well aware of it.

So march back into the cell you did, with your strong even stride, your heels clacking with authority. When the door to the holding cell slid open you turned your nose up slightly, and made a beeline for your thermos, never sparing him the slightest glance. Then, you turned on your heel and addressed Dr. Membrane. “ _Sir, shall I take the datasheets back to your office for transfer?_ ”

He looked up from the computer, a clunky monstrous thing, and nodded. “Uh, yeah, if you would, please. I’ll be there in an hour or so, thank you.”

And that was that. You went back to the office, minded your own business, and had your work finished at five o’clock on the dot. All in all, a good and productive day. You couldn’t even be upset with yourself over getting flustered anymore, it was just part of your job. The quicker you could dust yourself off and get back to it the stronger you’d be, by God.

You hummed yourself through dinner, tip toeing and twirling around your tiny apartment in blissful satisfaction. For a moment you felt that nothing in the world could bring you down, not even if the stars rained from the heavens and set your world on fire. Not while you ate dinner, not while you talked to the moon, and certainly not when you tossed under your comforter, gently convulsing in sweet release, when you allowed yourself the smallest taboo of thinking only of his eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

You were able to go the entire next day without so much as a hiccup. There were no complications, no surprises, and nothing standing between you and getting your work done. It was so relieving to be back on schedule, to maintain routine.

The new asset, who was usually a talkative distraction, kept his mouth shut and his head down. He sat in his chair, let you go about your business, and stared at the floor while you gathered your daily statistics. No ‘hello,’ no ‘goodbye,’ no interaction of any kind, exactly as it was supposed to be. Just how your code of conduct outlined.

When Dr. Membrane met you in the office towards the end of your shift, he looked puzzled.

“ _What’s the matter?_ ”

He slumped in his chair and sighed. “Aside from the fact that I was supposed to have that box of confiscated things, it’s been quiet all day. Not a single word.”

It wasn’t progress by any means, but at least he wasn’t making a nuisance of himself.

“Actually,” the Dr. said, tapping his fingers against his desk, “it looked depressed.”

You rolled your eyes. “ _He’s just trying to manipulate you. Nothing has changed between today and yesterday._ ”

“Except for you.”

Your brow furrowed and you suddenly felt like you were under scrutiny. “ _What’s that supposed to mean?_ ”

Dr. Membrane shrugged. “You treat it like every other asset now. You walk in, record the data, and leave. I know you talked to it.”

You pressed your legs together and bunched your shoulders up defensively. “ _How did you know? Am I in trouble?_ ”

He smiled and shook his head. “No you’re not in trouble. But I could tell because it had the same dumb look on its face that I did when I started talking to Gretchen. It  _likes_  you.”

You waved your hands and signed repeatedly, “ _No, no no no, no he does not, no!_ ”

The Dr. laughed, raised an eyebrow. “Oh come on, my job is to analyze every tiny detail I find, you really think I wouldn’t notice?”

So that was it then, were you finished? Would he tell his father? Would the new asset be taken off your list to terminate all further interactions? You felt like you could cry, and you weren’t even sure why.

“ _Relax_ , I’m not going to tell anyone. But I do need you to be aware of the situation. He hasn’t given us any information, my father isn’t going to wait around forever. Sooner or later he’s going to go in there and take it by force or kill that thing trying.” His face was somber, suddenly weighed down by the long nights and stale coffee.

Not allowing the asset to manipulate you didn’t mean you wanted to watch him get beat into submission. But you couldn’t talk to him, you  _wouldn’t_ , it would just make everything worse all over again. You’d figure something out, because it was the right thing to do, but you also had to be prepared for the consequences.

You treated carefully until you clocked out, and continued until you got home, ate dinner, said goodnight to the moon and stars, and went to bed.

The next morning had you in no better spirits, and you still didn’t know what you were going to do about...  _him_. The bus ride to the facility offered no solutions, and as you rode the elevator down to punch your timecard, you worried your lip and wrung your hands. It felt colder than usual, damp, clammy, you were nervous.

The assets cooperated, as best as they did, and you took their information as quickly as possible. It was easier to forget how different they looked, how much the image of them made you want to vomit, when you were nervous. Distracted.

You left the last cell, the last one before his, breathing calm and evenly. You started down the hall, and saw Colonel Membrane turn into the corridor, a few yards ahead of you. Gretchen was with him, and so were six other guards. Everyone but Gretchen had a baton, at the ready, prepared to strike.

You were too late.

Sweat coated your neck and the palms of your hands, your stomach bottomed out, and you jogged to catch up. You could hear the Colonel talking as you approached, and it fueled your fear.

“I’m gonna beat that thing to death if I have to, we haven’t gotten a  _goddamn_  thing.” The Colonel gestured to the men behind him. “I want you all to be ready to trap him against the back wall, don’t give him any leverage.”

You put your hand on Gretchen’s arm, wanting to see her face, to see if she was just as scared as you were. She looked at you sadly, moving to hold your hand and keep you close. You stayed with her when they walked in, clutching her hand and shaking. The metal door seemed louder, ground against its own gears, like a heralding trumpet.

He was sitting in his chair, facing the door, and as soon as he saw the Colonel march in he shot up, you could see his chest rise and fall in deep erratic breaths. Dr. Membrane rose from his seat at the computer, a look of shock and confusion etching over his features.

“Dad, what’s going on?”

You saw him take a worried glance at Gretchen, she shook her head tightly and averted her eyes.

“What I should’ve done the moment this thing got here. We don’t even have a name for Christ’s sake!”

They started yelling at each other, back and forth, loud and booming, desperate. It rang in your ears and made you sick, you felt so removed from the situation that you couldn’t understand what either of them were really saying. Your head spun, tremors of anxiety pulsed through your veins, you felt light headed. It was too soon, nobody had been given enough time, this wasn’t the proper procedure. It was too early to use violence.

You found his gaze, utterly by accident, and what you saw in his face made your chest ache.

He was afraid. He knew exactly what was coming. And he knew that it was too late to stop it.

As you began to shake your head in defiance, he rose his hands and signed very small, just enough for you to see.

“ _I will only speak to you._ ”

The first crackle of electricity startled you out of your daze, and you looked on in horror as the Colonel approached him, like a stalking predator. Somehow it was almost a poetic comparison. He raised the tip of the baton and struck the asset against the side of his knee, forcing him into a kneeling position, then pressed the tip up under his chin and forced him to look up.

“I’m only gonna ask this once, and I think you’re smart enough to know what happens if you don’t give me an answer. Where are you from?”

His face remained neutral, challenging.

You heard the crack of the baton against the side of his face, but closed your watering eyes before contact. When you opened them there was a bruise forming quickly against his left cheek. His expression hadn’t changed.

“If I wanted to look you up in an encyclopedia full of freaks, where would I find you, huh?” The Colonel spoke as he ran the tip of his baton along the asset’s jawline, begging him to keep quiet again.

To which he complied.

The second hit was louder, sounded uglier, and you jerked with the pained groan he made. But still not a word.

Colonel Membrane huffed. “Son this is your last chance, then I stop asking questions.”

The asset looked up and held the Colonel’s gaze while he spit out a mouthful of blood. A thick and light rosy pink color.

“What the  _hell_  are you!”

He stayed true to his word, and kept silent.

You couldn’t watch, had to fight to cover either your eyes or ears, and the tears just kept coming. The first few times he was electrocuted he tried so hard not to make noise, but they boke him, they broke him so fast, and suddenly he was screaming, howling, making the most pained and inhuman noises you’d ever heard. It was horrific, and it was all your fault.

Dr. Membrane watched in anger as his father senselessly beat the other, Gretchen pursed her lips shut and stared sadly at the floor. Neither moving to end the torture.

You ran over to Dr. Membrane, moving your hands wildly in frantic desperation, begging. “ _Please! You have to make him stop, please! Please!_ ”

He looked so defeated, and tangled his hands in his hair, shaking his head. “I can’t, I’m sorry.”

You whirled on Gretchen and clapped as loud as you could to get her attention, noiselessly whining at the continued sounds of his screams. “ _Gretchen make him stop! Please! This is wrong, please! Make him stop!_ ”

But all she did was place her hands over her ears and look away.

The guards had him pinned against the wall now, taking turns poking and prodding, beating and whipping. The crackle of the electricity paired with the smell of burning flesh made you gag on your silent cries, feeling hopeless. You had to end this, because you were the one that started it.

No one heard the loud clacking of your heels, all you felt as you passed over the yellow line was a tingle, the tiny flyaways of hair standing on end. You reached for the Colonel’s coat sleeve and yanked for all you were worth.

The Colonel whipped around, his eyebrows pinching together angrily above his glasses. “You want to get beat, too? Huh? Mind your damn place!”

You fell back, the tears obstructing your view of him. But your hands begged, pleaded for him to stop, their motions shaky and unreliable. You could’ve been signing gibberish for all the good it would do. He couldn’t understand you.

“What the fuck are you on about!” He raised his baton to you just as you heard Gretchen and Dr. Membrane cry out after him.

You raised your arms and shrunk into the floor, ready for the shooting pain of a broken arm.

There was a nearly indistinguishable sound of groaning and snapping metal, and then a loud and piercing shriek. You opened one eye cautiously, and saw a guard fly across the room and smack into the concrete wall six feet above the floor, his skull cracking on impact. There were a few other shouts of surprise, electrical sparks, and the quick shuffle of feet sliding against the floor.

You rose to your hands and knees just in time to watch the Colonel slide across the polished floor, beyond the bounds of the yellow line. Even though the asset’s handcuffs had been pulled apart, his hands independently free, he still couldn’t chase the other beyond the magnetic field. So he stood snarling, presenting his teeth with a curled lip.

The silence of any room had never been so deafening to you, and you sat on the floor, cowering from it all.

The Colonel rose to his feet and brushed out his coat and shirt, adjusting his glasses. He still had murder in his eyes, but it had simmered down into a calculating stare. His eyes shifted from the asset to you, back and forth before his mouth curled into a sick smile. “The mute, huh? I could beat you to hell and back and wouldn’t get a single word. But if I took one swing at her, I bet you’d talk, wouldn’t you?”

Your arms automatically tried to pull you away, to put as much space between you and him. The breathing came quickly and your mouth went dry.

Dr. Membrane rushed over, holding a hand out to stop his father. “Dad please, leave her out of this, this isn’t her fault.”

The Colonel turned his glare to his son. “Dib, this is  _not_  your place to speak, so I suggest you sit back down and keep in line."

“Look, this clearly isn’t working, and if you kill him, he’s useless, okay? You just have to give me more time, please.”

You swallowed, still too shaky to stand.

The Colonel grunted. “Oh it’s a ‘him’ now, huh?” He turned and looked between the two of you, disgusted. “You get thirty-six hours. After that, it goes to the  _lab_.”

He left with what guards were still alive and told Gretchen to notify the cleaning crew on his way out, leaving the four of you alone.


	5. Chapter 5

The humming of the facility came back to your ears as a gentle roar before dying back down into the background. As you slowly pieced together your composure, you looked around for any damage that had been done. Nothing had been broken – except three of the guards, who lay dead – but there was a lot of blood. Most of it was red, but some of it was translucent, pink. Something you’d record for your notes.

Dr. Membrane was rubbing Gretchen’s arms, talking her down, whispering to her softly. She looked frightened, and he did too, but he was better at hiding it.

The asset was bent over, bracing himself against his legs and... growling? His fingers dug into the fabric of his jeans and you could see long tendrils of blood falling from his mouth, but nowhere else.

You stood up slowly, not to make any sudden moves. His behavior seemed familiar to you, like something you’d see from a stalking jaguar. Whatever he was, it was near if not the top of the food chain. You took slow and silent steps around him, passing over the yellow line where he couldn’t reach. When you were in front of him, you knelt down so that you could see his face. “ _Are you okay?_ ”

His eyes flicked up, and even from the mildly vulnerable position, it still felt like he was pinning you down. The growling sounded like it was vibrating from deep in his chest, rolling every time he breathed out. He lifted his right hand and half signed “ _Only you._ ”

It was guilt that ate away at you when the cleaning crew came, escorted you out of the room, and locked the door behind them. It was guilt that gnawed in your stomach while Dr. Membrane walked Gretchen back to his father’s office. And it was guilt that dried your mouth for the rest of your shift. You fell asleep wallowing in it, sobbing into the pillows, because if you’d done any number of minute things even a little differently, none of this would’ve happened. He wouldn’t have gotten hurt.

The next morning, when you put your pot of tea on and climbed to the roof, and said good morning to the heavens you cried. You signed an apology, poured out your guilt, and expressed your concern. One of their own had been wrongfully harmed in your presence, and now you felt that you couldn’t even look at the stars without feeling shame.

You readied yourself for work, going through the motions in a monotonous haze. When you punched your timecard, not even the reliable _clunk_ of the machine could pull you out of it. The assets didn’t seem to faze you so much today, as if your emotional void gave them no substance for harassment.

When you finished all of your assignments there was a twinge in your gut for a moment, a split second of fear and aversion. You weren’t sure if you could look him in the eye, despite how badly you wanted to confess to how much was your fault.

You sucked in a deep breath and flashed your card, wincing at the grinding metal and concrete. The room was empty except for him, no one else. He sat in his chair, cross legged, staring into his lap where his hands were occupying each other. He looked up at the sound of the door, a smile beginning to form on his lips – one that faded as he looked at your face.

With your tablet in one shaky hand, you pulled up another chair and sat down facing him, a few modest feet between you and the yellow line. There wasn’t much to record, but you went through his datasheet in silence, your twitching fingers giving your nerves away. When you were done, you hesitated just long enough for him to ask.

“Are you okay?”

Honestly, you were speechless, so much so that you weren’t even breathing. Were you okay? Of course not. Should you tell him that?

“ _I don’t know_.” You bit your lip, feeling tears pricking at your eyes. “ _Except that I’m sorry_.”

He tiled his head as his brows furrowed, questioning. “Sorry for what?”

For everything. “ _For making you think you shouldn’t just give them what they want. Why didn’t you say anything yesterday?_ ” You were crying now, and you couldn’t look at him.

“I’ll only talk to you, that’s what I said and I meant it.”

You pinched your eyes shut and signed vigorously, “ _But why_ me _?_ ”

You heard him sigh. “I feel like there are other things I should tell you first. But yesterday wasn’t your fault.”

Surprise jerked your head up, and you felt caught. “ _I didn’t think_ –“

He smiled. “You feel guilty, I can tell."

“ _How?_ ”

“I can smell it.” His smile grew wider as the warmth spread in your cheeks. “In fact, I can smell a _lot_ of things.”

You instinctively pulled your legs up and hid your face behind your tablet, sinking a few inches in your chair.

He laughed. “You’re only proving my point.”

You dropped the tablet in your lap and signed where he could see. “ _Stop it!_ ”

“Oh come on, you don’t _want_ to like me?”

“ _I wasn’t never even supposed to talk to you!_ ”

“And here we are~”

You dropped your legs back down to the floor and pursed your lips. “ _I still don’t know your name. Do you have one?_ ”

He looked away, contemplating whether or not he wanted to tell you. But you knew the smile still on his face gave him away. “I do, my name is Zim.” He spelled out his name for you so you could record it properly.

You typed it in and thought, nodding to yourself while you absently signed the letter ‘Z’ in front of your lips.

“What does that mean?”

You did it again. “ _It’s a shorthand for your name so I don’t have to spell it out. You have a nice smile, so..._ ”

Zim nodded, seeming to catch onto the idea. Then he signed the first letter of your name, and touched his chest twice with his middle most finger. When you tilted your head at him he grinned. “Because you have a big heart.”

The red roared back into your cheeks and you hid your face. “ _Stop saying things like that, how do you know?_ ”

“I just _do_ , it’s part of my nature.”

Speaking of which. “ _So what are you?_ ”

Suddenly the smile was gone, and Zim leaned back in his seat, looking mildly uneasy. He crossed his arms over his chest and set his gaze somewhere off to the side.

You leaned over and snapped your fingers in his line of sight. “ _You have to tell me, I don’t want them to hurt you again._ ”

There was such a long pause you wondered if he would deny you. Tell you later, shake his head, puff up and act like the beating wasn’t even that bad. But he swallowed, took a breath, and held his hands up to spell it out for you. He signed each letter with defined accuracy, looking down at the floor.

I. R. K. E. N.

You wrote it down before you forgot, not wanting to have to ask again, and then you signed it back just to clarify. “ _I’ve never heard of them before._ ”

“That’s probably for the best.”

His comment rubbed you an odd way. “ _You sound ashamed... are you?_ ”

“That’s enough for today.”

You lowered your hands to your lap and looked down at the data sheet. You’d added three more things, and his remote readings looked normal. Well, aside from an early on spike in hormones, which has since plateaued, which probably meant he was back to normal and there had been some deficiency during the transport period prior.

But you weren’t in a place to ask questions or press for more information. You’d gotten what he’d given you and that would just have to be enough for today. So you thanked him quietly and walked out of the cell, feeling much less guilty than when you’d walked in.

Dr. Membrane couldn’t do much with the new information offhand, so he sent it off to another team for reference. You weren’t sure how much they’d be able to find on Irkens, or if there was anything at all, but you hoped the Colonel was happy regardless. It was _something_ at least. For all the excitement he had about an asset that was still in third density, you hoped he’d have the forethought to work around any future unnecessary violence.

There was a knock at the office door that brought you both out of your focused silence.

“Got a box of confiscated items from the new asset.”

Dr. Membrane perked up and shot out of his seat, grabbing for the modest box of things. “Jesus, took you long enough just for fucking inventory.” He set the box on the table and shooed away the other lab coat, motioning for you to come look. “So, what does an alien in disguise keep around his apartment?”

The two of you dug through the contents, surprisingly underwhelmed at what you found. There was the expected; a wallet with an ID, a BankAmericard, some loose bills and change, a social security card, etc. You found a set of keys, a half empty can of hair spray, and a classic deck of cards. The only really interesting thing you found was a pocket sized star chart, until you got to the very bottom of the box.

Dr. Membrane helped you pull everything out and set it on the table, making room for the bundle of fabric on the bottom. He stood back and pulled it up by the shoulders, turning it left and right to see the back. “That’s uh... a lot of _pink_ for a uniform.” He looked at you with a snicker and shook his head.

You peaked back inside the box, finding a matching pair of boots and gloves made of a slick black material – breathable but tough. The rest of the uniform seemed to be made of a slightly more cloth version. A long red tunic with soft pink shoulder cuffs and collar. You also found a pair of tight, thin leggings and a sleeveless undershirt with a high and equally tight collar. Formfitting and breathable, probably made for combat.

You looked at Dr. Membrane quizzically. “ _Where do you think they found_ that _?_ ”

He hummed, folding everything back up into a neat pile. “Not sure, you can ask tomorrow when you bring it to him.”

You fumbled the things in your hands, flustered by what the tone of his voice implied. But you didn’t make any comment, your shift was practically over and all you wanted was to go home. And _not_ so that you could go to bed quicker and see him again in the morning.


	6. Chapter 6

When you were done collecting statistics for your assets the next morning, you eagerly made your way back up to the office you shared with Dr. Membrane, biting your lip to hide the smile on your face. While you were upstairs gathering the uniform, you also took two glazed donuts with you and left a note on Dr. Membrane’s desk, prematurely confessing to your thievery.

Your usual complacent behavior in the workplace generally kept you from literally running into people, but you couldn’t remember the last time you were so excited. You weren’t even sure why, perhaps somehow delivering his uniform had cemented itself into your psyche as a gesture of good will. ‘Here is something my boss stole from you, I’m giving it back, now we are friends.’ Human companionship was quite primitive at best, but at least it was generally honest.

You were lost in thought when you flashed your card for entry into the cell, shuffling in quickly. The room was empty, you noticed, except for Zim, and somehow the giddiness in your step faltered and you became very self-conscious.

He stood up, tilting his head at the bundle of cloth in your arm, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “Is that what I think it is?”

You awkwardly set down your tablet and the donuts you’d brought, and made to walk his uniform over to him. Then it occurred to you that, in order to actually make the exchange, some part of you was going to have to pass over the yellow line. His cuffs were still broken apart, so he had full leverage. The idea of even touching him made your stomach turn, and you weren’t sure for which reason. You weren’t three inches from the force field neither of you could see before you hesitated.

Zim shuffled uncomfortably, about as close as he could physically get to you. He barely had enough room to sign. “Are you... still afraid of me?”

You didn’t think he meant to sound so upset, but the guilt washed over you again, and you hung your head slightly, shrugging unconvincingly.

“I understand. But I don’t want you to be afraid of me forever.”

Whether you had a response or not was moot at this point, you’re hands weren’t free to reply, you’re only option was to suck it up and take a chance. Besides, you hadn’t been so worried about running in and taking on the Colonel, you could do _this_.

He held his hands out to you as far as he could, and waited patiently while you closed the gap a half an inch at a time. It happened a lot quicker than you anticipated, but you did feel your hands brush against his, and it made you jerk back in surprise.

Zim scoffed at you. “Jesus I’m not _contagious_.”

You went to sign an apology, but he already had his back turned and was stripping. A furious blush raced across your cheeks, and two very basic instincts began to fight for dominance. Of course it would be polite to look away, but did he only look human where his clothes didn’t cover?

He caught your internal debate just as you faltered to turn around, and he laughed. “You can look, I don’t have anything to hide~”

The lilt in his voice made your stomach drop, and your only reaction was to cover your face with your hands. It covered your eyes, but it also told him that you were too flustered to say anything. Except you could still peek through your fingers...

From what you saw at a glance he was still human under the clothes, which in all honesty was a bit of a disappointment. You didn’t expect to see anything risqué, but a change in skin tone would’ve been nice. You dropped your hands and scowled at him. “ _You still look pretty human to me._ ”

He jumped a little into the skintight leggings and pursed his lips. “Well I’m so very sorry to have disappointed you.”

You rolled your eyes. “ _They’re going to find out eventually._ ”

Zim opened his mouth to make a remark, and you noticed an expression akin to trepidation begin to show. “Yeah well, I’m not really worried about what _they_ think.”

The blush returned to dust your cheeks. “ _Does it matter what_ anyone _thinks_?”

A hint of sadness joined his look of hesitation, and he finished pulling on the tunic in silence. You watched in absent fascination, glancing away while he fastened what looked to be a garter to both upper thighs. Damn him for having such nice legs.

“I don’t know,” he said, edging up to the force field. “I care what _you_ think.”

Your stomach bottomed out again, which was only happening so easily because you hadn’t had lunch yet. It was definitely not because you liked the idea that he cared about what you thought of him. “ _I don’t think that’s a very good idea._ ” As much as you loved the attention, things were already complicated enough.

Zim smiled and looked down at his shuffling feet. “Yeah well, I’m not known for my good ideas.”

You felt like you should say something, like turn him down. But you didn’t know that he was asking something of you in the first place.

“Also,” he said, holding his hands out palms up. “I can’t put my gloves on over these.”

The handcuffs. His gloves looked skintight up to the elbows. But you couldn’t... take them off. No, you _wouldn’t_ take them off. Harmless or not he was still an asset, and he had to be contained. _No screw ups_ , you told yourself. Not again. Not this time.

“ _I’m not going to take them off._ ” You made your motions stiff and assertive. You wouldn’t budge on this.

He was quiet for a beat. “How about just one at a time? I still won’t be able to get past the force field.”

That was true. As long as one was activated he couldn’t technically do anything. Even if all of him except one hand was beyond the yellow line, there was nothing he could reach.

Except you.

You raised your shaky hands, keeping your eyes trained somewhere other than his face. “ _Promise you won’t hurt me._ ”

Instead of signing back his hands began to grip at the edges of his uniform. “I wish... you didn’t feel like you still had to ask that of me. But I won’t.”

You pivoted on your heels and walked over to a small plastic case mounted on the wall, just by the door. Above it was a fat red button surrounded in caution stripes. Inside the little box was a set of keys that didn’t look quite like keys, and you swiped your card to open it up. There were two, one for the left and one for the right.

When you approached him again he was standing slightly farther away, leaving just enough space to reach out one hand at a time so he didn’t have the leverage to grab at you when the cuff was off. You hated that he was considerate. Even though it felt reassuring.

You took a deep breath and reached your hands up, keeping a tight grip on one key with the other firmly between your teeth. You tried not to touch his skin as best you could until the cuff came off. He pulled his hand away and wriggled it snug into one glove. Rinse and repeat. When you put the second cuff back on he tucked his hands under his arms and took a step backwards and away from the line.

Nothing happened, just like you knew it wouldn’t, but it always paid to be safe than sorry. You hung the keys back up and locked the little box, eager to record your data and get back to the office. As you picked up your tablet to get to work, he spoke, his voice very soft.

“You were so happy when you came in... I thought it was because you were happy to see me.”

You gripped your tablet against you as you sat down, and hunched your shoulders while your hands fidgeted with themselves. “ _It was_.” You probably shouldn’t have told him that, but then, you shouldn’t have ever spoken to him in the first place.

Zim sat back down in his chair and hung his head, playing with the hem of his uniform over his crossed legs. “I’m sorry if I upset you, I just don’t understand what I did.”

Of course he didn’t. “ _That’s because you didn’t do anything._ ”

When he looked at you he still looked sad, like he felt guilty anyway. You signed an apology, then slowly went about the rest of your work. When you finished you stood slowly, walked your chair back to its desk, and paused to sign goodbye.

He raised his hand and waved, trying to smile despite the hurt you could still see all over his face. You sighed, then turned to leave, just as the door’s gears began to grind at someone’s arrival.

It was the Colonel, and his group plus Dr. Membrane. The Colonel looked at you, his wicked smile only half hidden behind the collar of his white coat. “Oh good, you’re already here.”

Dr. Membrane gave you an apologetic look before sitting down at his computer.

You stiffened immediately, your eyes darting between the guards, waiting to pin down which one might try and grab you. It wasn’t any use trying to sign to them, to ask what they wanted, with you or Zim. So you stood, frightened and clutching mercilessly at your tablet.

The Colonel pointed at the two guards closest to you. “Don’t let her run off until afterwards, she keeps it complacent.”

Zim narrowed his eyes and backed away. “And what, exactly, do I need to be _complacent_ for?”

Colonel Membrane barked a laugh. “You can cut the shit at any time, we know what you are. We know where you come from, what you look like, and what you’re capable of. The question is, why are you still hiding behind that hologram?”

You looked at him, either in curiosity or for stability you couldn’t tell. You just knew looking at him made you feel better. But you did question him. “ _Hologram?_ ” Was that what was making him look human? You noticed something, then, that he’d had five fingers before he’d put on his gloves – which only had four. _So there’s no telling what you look like..._

Zim wrinkled his nose and sneered. “You know, I always was disgusted at how self-deserving you military types were.”

The Colonel laughed. “Well well, look at the pot callin’ the kettle black. You’re whole species is one giant military, and you think the universe owes you everything, don’t you?”

The smile that came to Zim’s face was bitter. “Ex-military. And nobody owes me anything.”

With a flick of his wrist the Colonel whipped out his baton and twirled it in small threatening circles. “Doesn’t that just make you the most pitiful Irken there is, should I throw you a pity party?” He stepped past the yellow line and Zim crouched, snarling. “Boys, if he moves, _beat her_.”

The sickening click of the guards’ baton brought tears to your eyes, and all you could do was stand right where you were and pray the pain knocked you out before it became unbearable. You heard Gretchen gasp somewhere behind you.

Zim’s full body clenched, then he stood up straight and set his jaw, training his eyes anywhere but the Colonel.

“That’s more like it. Now why don’t you show us all how ugly you really are, hm?” The Colonel poked the end of his baton square into Zim’s stomach, making him lurch forward and grit his teeth.

“Fuck you.”

“Wrong answer. Remember, she can’t take a hit like you can.” He waved his baton absently in your general direction.

Gretchen stepped forward, her eyebrows knitted together. “Sir, why can’t we leave her out of this? She’s got work to do anyway, is this really necessary?”

The Colonel sighed irritably. “Complacency, my dear.” He jabbed the tip of his baton under Zim’s jaw, just enough to make him gag. “As dangerous as this thing is, it has a soft spot. Some bullshit about not being able to weed out all of the unwanted genes makes some of them defective, like this one.”

You only barely saw the pained twitch of Zim’s eyes as he closed them, biting his lip.

“The broken ones have feelings, sometimes they have reproductive organs, and _sometimes_ they lock eyes with their soul mates and the two live happily ever after _forever_. They call it imprinting, I call it disgusting.” He leveled his gaze back to Zim. “Sound about right?”

He looked like he wanted to fight, to go down kicking and screaming, to drag the other man with him to a cruel end. But he wouldn’t, and apparently it was all because of you. Zim scoffed, his eyes glossing over as he reached under his uniform and pulled out a pair of dog tags on a thin chain.

The Colonel took them both in one hand, turning them over. “Sentiment, not something you’re supposed to be able to feel, is it? Still wish you were a good little soldier?” He gripped the tags and yanked, snapping the chain.

You only got a brief look at the tears that pricked the corners of his eyes before it all changed. The tears still fell, but his cheeks weren’t red anymore, there were no ears with flushed tips, no wrinkled nose, no messy gelled hair.

First you were overcome with a cold and deep sense of dread that rocked you to your very core. The air left your lungs so quickly your head spun, and every muscle in your body tensed as spots took over your vision. All similar feelings, except the only difference was you weren’t paralyzed in your bedroom, and your legs hauled you out of the room to safety.

You have no memory of the following minutes, and when you came back to reality – back to safety – you were in the women’s locker room, curled up in fetal position on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. You were sure if you were able to make noise it would sound horrific and ugly, but your cries were as silent as your convulses.

There was no feeling of guilt, just a conscious awareness of it. Your reaction had nothing to do with him, you saw worse every day before him. You just weren’t sure if you were comfortable admitting to him that it had been a programmed automatic response to something you couldn’t quite explain. It didn’t much matter at the moment, you could steal a few more minutes to cry.


	7. Chapter 7

You didn’t speak to anyone until the next morning. Not about how you were feeling, not about your reaction, and not about what the Colonel had said. You just finished your shift, went home, and cried until you fell asleep. You woke up tired and upset and hungry, and arrived at work dreading the rest of the day. It was the first time in a very long time that every asset you visited made you sick to your stomach. Especially the tall gray one, it seemed to be overtly aware of your discomfort.

When you got to Zim’s cell, you almost threw up before even going inside. A few deep breaths did about as much as they could, and you opened the door, bracing yourself. But you didn’t expect what you got.

Dr. Membrane sat at the computer logging information, but Zim wasn’t sitting in his chair waiting for you. Or standing around looking irritated. Or mouthing off to occupy himself. He was curled up into a ball, with his head buried in his arms, huddled as close to the back wall as he could get. The two long hooked antennae you didn’t notice the day before were pressed flat against his head. Common sense told you something was wrong.

You walked over to Dr. Membrane and raised your hands. “ _What happened after I left? Is he okay?_ ”

He ran a tired hand through his hair and sighed. “Take a look at your files, you’ve got some new ones.”

With a curious look on your face you opened a scarcely used digital folder on your tablet. It was mostly for the scientists to upload reference logs and diagrams for the assets, and you could see they’d made a folder for Zim. Most of it was basic statistical data on Irkens as a species, but there was a subfolder labeled ‘Anatomy’ that caught your attention. It had exactly what you expected, with both digital renders and actual photos – and all of it was graphic.

You closed out of it immediately, scowling in disgust. “ _How did they get these?_ ”

Dr. Membrane turned his hands over. “How do you _think_?” he asked, his voice hushed. “They strapped him to a table and poked and prodded until he didn’t have any dignity left.”

You covered your mouth in horror, the levels of severity coming to you in waves. Supposedly one of the most fearless and vicious predators in the galaxy, raped and reduced to something akin to a frightened child. If you felt a hundred percent you’d be shaking and furious. But you decided to use what energy you did have to put it towards comfort.

You left your tablet at the vacant desk and walked the parameter of the yellow line all the way to the back wall. Everything about his body language made him look vulnerable; the way his feet were crossed and turned inwards, his fingers gripping at the sleeves of his uniform, the quivering in his chest from what you could hear to be ragged breaths.

He was tired and scared and lonely. He wasn’t going to hurt you.

It took you a few awkward tries to find a comfortable position on your knees, but once you did he took notice of your proximity.

“I didn’t want to scare you.” His voice sounded hoarse, and it made your heart ache.

You wanted to sign to him, to tell him that you weren’t afraid of him, that the way you acted had nothing to do with him at all. But he wouldn’t look at you, so you’d have to be a little more proactive. Without any sudden movements or sounds, you gently placed the fingertips of your right hand against his arm, just so he’d know you were touching him. Then you ran your hand over his shoulder and up and down his back rhythmically.

After a moment he seemed to relax, and you could feel the tension leaving his muscles under your hand. He lifted his head just enough to peer at you, and you saw a swath of purple blotched around his left eye.

You had assumed what had been done to him happened soon after you left yesterday, but it looked like it had been as recent as early this morning. The shock of it made you suck in your bottom lip, and you slowly moved your hand from his back to cup the side of his face. He winced at your touch, the skin probably still tender, but leaned into you and closed his eyes, a faint and gentle sound reverberating from his chest.

The Colonel looked like he’d taken a few liberties; there was cut across both of his lips, lines imbedded into the skin of his neck from restraints they’d put on him, patches of abrasions along the underside of his jaw. You could even tell the base of his antennae had been irritated, they looked like they were flaking and raw underneath.

The more you stroked your thumb over the irritated skin the closer he leaned into you, until he bowed his head forward against your shoulder and wrapped his arms around you. It had been a very long time since you’d had so much physical attention, but it felt just as nice as it did foreign. You hugged back, trying your very best not to cry and make a fuss over him.

When he pulled away and looked at you, meeting your eyes fully, a shudder ran up his spine and his eyelids drooped as his lips parted. Had his eyes not looked so dull you might have thought he’d suddenly gotten aroused, but mostly he just looked like he really wanted more attention.

You flicked your eyes to the security cameras in the room, and shifted so you could sign to him secretly. “ _We have to get you out of here_.”

The corner of his mouth twitched up, and his eyes looked very sad. “I appreciate the thought... but I don’t think I’m going to make it out of here.”

As much as you knew he was probably right, it wasn’t an answer were you were willing to accept. “ _Don’t talk like that, I’m not letting you stay here_ ,” you signed furiously.

He gently took your hands in his and held them tight. “Unless you found a couple of blue syringes in my confiscated pile of stuff, I don’t have a whole lot longer anyway.”

Your stomach bottomed out and your heart went with it. Syringes? For a medicine maybe? Or something he needed to take to survive on Earth? You pulled your hands away. “ _I’ll go to your apartment and bring some back, just tell me where to find them._ ” You could manage that, surely. In and out.

He shook his head sadly, still smiling at you. “Listen to me,” he said, cupping your face with both hands. “I knew this from the moment I woke up here, I was never going to make it.”

You shook your head, tears gathering in your eyes.

“I’m sorry things happened this way, I never meant – I...” He bit his lip and pressed his forehead to yours. “I never should have looked you in the eye.”

It wasn’t fair, _none_ of this was fair. But even as you threw yourself at him, clinging so tightly you might keep him from death with spite, you knew your time was short. You allowed yourself as much time as you could to sit with him, hold his hands, and rest your head on his shoulder. He kept close to the wall, but huddled you up with him, keeping your head pressed against his chest where you could hear the vibrations in his chest – like a heavy purr.

After twenty minutes you couldn’t stay any longer, and began to rise to say goodbye. As Zim helped you to your feet, the door opened. Colonel Membrane walked in.

“Looky here, just like clockwork,” he said, fanning his guards off to either side.

Zim pushed you back against the wall and stood between you and the Colonel, giving a warning growl.

“Can’t imagine you’re happy to see me again, eh boy? Haha, and now we know that for _sure_. Got another question for you.”

You saw Dr. Membrane rise out of his seat, already exhausted with his father. He held out a hand and motioned for you to step away, which you wouldn’t have had Zim not nudged you along.

“Sorry Colonel, it’s a little late to take me out to dinner.”

Colonel Membrane laughed. “Cheeky bastard. No, I’m here about a little detail that got overlooked. As I understand it, you’re supposed to have a life support system attached to your back. But you don’t, and you’re still kickin’.” He paced forward, tapping the end of his baton against his right leg. “Now how does _that_ work?”

You furrowed your brow, alarmed. You had no idea about a life support system, did that have something to do with the syringes? How _was_ he still alive?

Zim sighed, as though defeated, and stood up straight. “I was able to engineer an artificial alternative so that the PAK could be removed. I’ve worked on weaning myself of the fluid for the past year and a half. I took out the life support system, the tracing beacon, everything but the tools and neurological interface. It’s no longer remotely connected to the Control Brains and has no link from it to the rest of the Empire. And good riddance.”

The Colonel pursed his lips, gave Zim a slow once-over, and nodded. “Well, looks like once you get beaten down far enough you’re pretty complacent on your own. I’ll just leave you alone to wallow in your self-pity then, how’s that?” He turned and left the room, giving you an ugly sneer on the way out.

There was a lot running through your mind, and little thoughts began to congeal into a broader idea for escape. That thing, the life support system, you had to find it. And then get it back to him.

The door opened again and a very worn down Gretchen walked in, her heels echoing. “Dib, we’ve got to talk about – “

You ran to her, grabbed her by the arm, and hauled her back out into the hall as fast as you could manage. “ _Gretchen I need your help._ ”

She sighed, groaning. “This really isn’t a good time, I have to – “

“ _Make it wait. I need you._ ” Had it not been for the tear stains on your cheeks and fresh ones coming on, she might have outright dismissed you.

“Alright, fine. What is it?”

Your hands shook. “ _Confiscated tech, where does it go? Who has it?_ ”

Her head jerked back and her tone hardened. “Why do you need to know that?”

“ _Gretchen I don’t have time for this! Just tell me!_ ”

“Oh no, no no no, I don’t like what I think you’re thinking.” She pointed a finger at you warningly. “You are _not_ going to put our jobs on the line like this, you know how this works. Once those things get here they do not leave. You _know_ that.”

You slapped her hand away, gritting your teeth. “ _He’s not a_ thing _! Help me or not, but you can’t stop me._ ” You paused, your cheeks burning. “ _And if you_ are _my friend then you won’t try._ ” Without allowing her to respond, you took off down the hall at a brisk walk.

There’s was a lot of the facility you had access to that you’d never even seen, but three hours later and you’d found exactly nothing. You headed back to your office, counting yourself lucky you’d have just enough time to finish your work before having to clock out. Dr. Membrane was twiddling a pen when you slumped into your chair.

Silences between the two of you generally weren’t awkward, but all of a sudden he was making it awkward, and you motioned your hand to have him just spit out whatever he wasn’t saying.

He drummed his fingers against the desk. “You won’t have access to that level, where they keep the...” His eyes darted around and he lowered his voice. “Anyway, I’m just about over this whole operation as it is, it’s starting to get disgusting. When you get done with him tomorrow come straight back here and don’t act like you know anything.”

Your heart fluttered wildly and you were suddenly out of breath. You nodded faintly, then stared at your spreadsheets until you were told to leave.

Your nerves ate at you for hours after, you could hardly stomach your dinner and falling asleep felt like it dragged on forever. The nightmares even came back, the ones that _weren’t_ nightmares anyway.

The ones where you saw a tall creature with a bulbous head and black eyes looking at you from across your bedroom. The ones where They waved a hand and your vision went black, and your stomach churned with horror. The ones where your flight instinct screamed at you to get away from whatever alien place you’d been taken to. The bright white lights, the giant heads bobbing in and out of your vision, the unknown instruments they held blurred by your abnormally poor vision. The ones that made you wake up in the middle of the night fearing for your life, where you tore off your comforter and looked wildly around the room.

Sometimes there were marks on your skin after those dreams, but not always. It made it hard to tell which ones were real so you never really knew how often They came. But work the next day was always significantly more challenging. It was like the assets could tell, and they probably could, and they fed off that fear.

The next morning was no different of course. At least not until you got to Zim’s cell.


	8. Chapter 8

He was gone. The room was empty.

Of course you feared the worst. Gretchen had told on you. Colonel Membrane got whatever else he wanted and then killed him. He was probably dead, even though you didn’t know that for sure. He could’ve been taken for testing or moved to another part of the facility. People forget to notify you of things all the time.

You worried your fingers against your tablet all the way back to the office, your shoulders tense and sore. Dr. Membrane jerked his head up when he heard you walk in.

“Relax,” he said. “He’s not dead. Come here and look at this.”

Your body sagged and you let your head fall back in relief. Then you leaned over to see what Dr. Membrane had in the ratty box on his desk.

It was kind of shaped like an egg, but it was definitely made of metal. Except you were sure that if you poked it hard enough the material would give a little. There were three pinkish ovals that were just slightly transparent, but you couldn’t actually see anything behind them. The whole thing was tucked into a thick towel.

“ _What... is this?_ ” you signed, barely aware of the motions of your own hands.

“It’s uh... an unrivaled work of engineering is what it is. And it’s missing most of its innards.”

You pursed your lips uncomfortably. “ _You say that like it’s alive or something_.”

He laughed. “It kind of is. And it can’t stay here for very long, I was only able to get clearance for it until tomorrow afternoon, so whatever it is you’re gonna do, you better do it fast.”

The butterflies immediately invaded your stomach, and your brain went racing.

A plan. You had to come up with a plan. At least one better than flying by the seat of your pants and hoping for the best. You had an opportunity to get Zim out of the facility _alive_. It was a fork in the road of the rest of your life, because whether or not this plan worked would completely change everything that could or would happen. For him and you.

You nodded, sitting down at your desk to finish what work you could before revisiting his cell later. After a slow two hours passed you set your paperwork aside and left the office, hoping this time his room wouldn’t be empty.

It wasn’t, and he sat hunched over in his chair with his chin propped in both hands, looking desperately bored. As soon as the door slid open and you walked in, his antenna leapt to attention and he sat up straight, a lopsided smile spreading on his face.

You took an empty chair and set it up as normal, just on the outside of the yellow line out of reach. When you pulled your tablet out to record your data, you could see his smile fall in the corner of your eye.

“You’re not even gonna wave at me? _Nothing_? I’m offended, how dare you.”

It was hard not to smile, just a little.

His eyes narrowed. “You know something. Something that I do not.”

You shrugged your shoulders as minutely as possible, hoping the cameras wouldn’t pick it up.

“I _knew_ it. You hate me don’t you? I’m _disgusting_ and you can’t _stand_ me anymore.”

You put your tablet down and scowled at him, signing “ _That’s not true and you know it, stop being obnoxious_.”

He huffed and slid halfway out of his chair. “I’m _bored_ and if I say even one tiny little thing out of line they’ll stick something _else_ inside me. And it’s really not very pleasant when it’s not consensual.”

You pressed your lips together and tried to work through his comment. If you kept your fingers busy typing then you wouldn’t be able to respond. When you were finished you realized you wouldn’t be able to stay like you wanted, but it was for the best. The less suspicion you raised the better his chances were. You typed a quick message in an empty window and showed it to him as discreetly as possible.

**Do not react obviously to what I’m about to tell you.**

His antenna pricked before he relaxed his composure. But you could see his chest rising and falling rapidly.

You set the tablet down and raised your hands, trying to keep your signs as small as you could without butchering the message entirely. “ _I’m going to bring you the egg shaped thing that goes on your back tomorrow. I have exactly one opportunity to do this successfully, if there’s anything else you need to get yourself out of here, tell me right now._ ”

His whole body flexed and clenched before he took a deep breath and relaxed again, chewing on his lower lip. He signed back, “ _my foot and half long staff and at least one syringe if you can find them_ ,” and verbalized something else for the camera.

You carried on a normal conversation for a few minutes to keep the act up before leaving to go back to the office. Dr. Membrane was still bent over the metal egg thing. He tilted his head to you when you walked over to peer into the box. “Everything good?”

“ _Almost_.”

He hummed and tapped his fingers. “Almost doesn’t cut it.”

“ _I need two more things._ ”

Now he turned to look at you fully, his annoyance showing the wrinkles in his face. “I only have this thing until tomorrow, did you not hear that?”

“ _I know but I just want to make sure he’s not going to die trying._ ”

Dr. Membrane blew out through his nose and hung his head, shaking it gently. “What do you need.”

“ _His staff and a syringe._ ”

He threw his arms out in exasperation. “Sure let me get _right on that_. Jesus this is going to get us both killed, you know that right?”

You flinched because you knew he could be right. “ _Then why are you helping me?_ ”

He paused, then looked down at the floor. “Because I wouldn’t let Gretchen help you.”

She’d wanted to help? No, it didn’t matter, it was better if she was outside of this. She was safer if she didn’t have anything else to hide from the Colonel as it was. This was good, this would work. You and Dr. Membrane would be enough to make it happen.

“ _Can you get them?_ ”

“I can try, but no promises. If I do, they’ll be in the box. And you _have_ to come back here before going to see him because I need to walk down there with you. Otherwise you’ll look suspicious and then all three of us are dead.”

It felt wrong, but you smiled.


	9. Chapter 9

Your nerves ate at you relentlessly through the rest of the evening, all the way up until you tucked yourself into bed. The darkness that settled into your room after the light went out gave you a whole new feeling of tension and nervous fear. For something else entirely.

It bottomed out the pit of your stomach and made you groan in frustration, They were coming tonight. Perhaps you were even overdue for a visit, but They always had the worst timing. Their visits kept you awake late into the night, and then woke you in a cold sweat – the image of Them looming over your bed, shrouded in blinding light a flashing image in your mind. You never knew what They did with you, where They took you, just that They were there to pick you up and drop you back off.

You shuddered and rolled over, exhausted and scared. You just wanted tomorrow to be over already, to know whether or not you’d failed. You fell asleep tense and sore, a headache dulling your racing brain.

The morning came earlier than you’d expected, and you woke before your alarm went off – a vague memory of a tall slender figure with three nimble fingers putting you back to bed. You’d gotten a glimpse of the hazy state of mind They left you in, but mostly you’d been able to sleep through it. You would sleep better tonight.

After the breakout.

Your mind was an endless chant all morning, reciting the steps of your plan. Do your job. Confirm his location. Go back to the office. Let Dr. Membrane escort you to his cell. And then...

That was about as far as you’d gotten. You had wanted to have a way to temporarily reboot the security system, just for a few minutes. It would shut down the cameras, put the whole facility on lockdown, just long enough to get Zim to an exit before everything was operational again and you could get him through a door. Otherwise, you weren’t sure how to move him in any sort of discreet fashion.

Another idea hit you on the bus ride to work, only to fall short the second after. If you’d been able to find his dog tags maybe he could reprogram them and make himself look like one of the personnel. But they were probably locked away in one of the technician labs, and Dr. Membrane had already been asked for enough.

Your plan came up short as you walked into the office, still kicking yourself over the reboot idea. Dr. Membrane looked tense and vaguely sick to his stomach.

“You’re going to owe me for this, you know that right?” He stood and tilted the cardboard box to show you what else was inside. One unassuming foot and half long metal rod and two small syringes filled with a viscous blue liquid.

Short of giggling and throwing yourself at him in thanks, you nodded with a smile and took your tablet, ready to get to work.

“Hey, mind if I bother you both for a minute?” Gretchen poked her head into the office, sliding inside and closing the door quietly behind her. The sly smile on her lips made your stomach do a flip.

“Everything okay?” Dr. Membrane asked.

Gretchen tapped her pen against her clipboard and put on a professional face. “I’ve been asked to make all higher personnel aware of a mandatory systems upgrade due in two hours. The IT technical team will be rebooting all security systems at exactly 0900 and everyone is required to remain stationary during this process. The reboot should take no more than five to seven minutes, and once back online the security system will be equipped with a secondary heat sensory scan that will cover all access parts of the building not monitored by cameras.” There was a slight twitch of her lips before she exited the room, leaving you both stunned.

You turned to Dr. Membrane, dumbfounded at your luck. “ _Did she do this?_ ”

He stared at the door, open mouthed. “She must have, there’s always been at least a week’s notice for system updates.”

“ _How do you think she set this up? This is incredible!_ ” You could hardly contain your excitement of the idea that you’d been given a perfect out.

He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t know, but I’m going to marry that woman.”

Your nervous energy still made you sick to your stomach, and you had an exceptionally hard time with your asset visits. Your fingers shook so bad it took you nearly twice as long in some of the cells as it otherwise would have. Every time you swiped your access card to a cell you could feel your throat tighten and the back of your tongue reflexively push up to the roof of your mouth just in case you felt the need to vomit. By the time you reached Zim you were sweating and tired.

Before you entered you had a message typed out for him to read that the cameras wouldn’t be able to pick up.

He was sitting backwards in his chair, with one leg hooked under the backrest, the other stretched out for balance, and his entire upper body hanging off the front edge doing sit-ups. You had to clap a few times to get his attention.

He smiled at you upside down and planted his hands on the ground, kicking off into half a backflip to get back on his feet. “Sorry I’m sweaty, I – You smell funny, you nervous? What’s the matter?”

You bit your lip and remained standing, typing useless numbers and information into his files. “ _I’m fine._ ”

He walked up to the yellow line, pressing himself as close as he could until he felt the magnetic cuffs on his wrists catch on the invisible field. His head tilted. “You’re shaking, talk to me.”

Even through your nerves he made you bashful enough to blush. You bullshitted the rest of the numbers – because hopefully they wouldn’t matter anyway – and turned the tablet around for him to read.

**I’ll come back with Dr. Membrane and the things you asked for. The security system is getting rebooted which will shut down all the lights and cameras. We’ll have five minutes to get you to an exit and out of here before the systems come back online. Once they do, they’ll be able to track us even without the cameras. It’s our _only_ shot.**

Zim swallowed and flexed his hands. “Oh boy this is really happening, isn’t it?”

You nodded, and checked the time. “ _30 minutes._ ”

“Alright. Let’s do this.”

You left the holding cell, and booked it back for the office as nonchalantly as you could hope to manage. The nerves crawled over your skin and up your spine and you were sure you’d have to stop somewhere to let the panic out of your system.

Dr. Membrane was pacing in the office when you arrived, immediately moving to close the box once you entered. “Is he ready?”

“ _Yes._ ”

“Good, we don’t have any room for error, so no pressure.”

On your way out you were both stopped by one of Colonel Membrane’s personal guards in passing. “The reboot is happening in about fifteen minutes, better to stay in your office.”

Dr. Membrane gave him his best annoyed expression. “Yeah yeah, tech lab four wants these back beforehand, real quick in and out, then we’ll find a place to hang tight until it’s over.”

The guard narrowed his eyes and grit his teeth.

“Or are you gonna spank me with your toy baton like my dad?”

The guard opened his mouth, closed it again, and walked off, waving his hand dismissively probably in disgust.

You gave Dr. Membrane a sideways look as you continued down the hall. “ _What the hell was that?_ ”

His cheeks turned pink. “Shut up, I say weird shit when I’m nervous.”

The rest of the walk was silent and hazy to you, and your eyes darted around nervously as if every person you passed was suspicious of what you two were doing. Even the guard posted outside of Zim’s cell seemed to give you both and odd look.

“You don’t wanna be in there in the next couple minutes, better wait out here.”

Dr. Membrane huffed. “Look buddy, I don’t have time for this, just let me get in and get out before I’m stuck in there with the lizard, okay?”

Honestly you were surprised that had worked, and followed closely behind before the guard had a chance to question you too.

Zim was standing at the ready, shoulders squared and chin high. Alert and calm. He watched Dr. Membrane set the box down at the computer desk, signing to ask if you’d gotten everything. Just for the sake of your cover before the cameras went down, you tried to fake looking busy on your tablet.

“Alright listen up,” Dr. Membrane said, feeding a cord from the computer into the box where you couldn’t see. “All cell safety perimeters, the yellow lines, have a bypass lock so that if the system goes down, assets aren’t set loose. We’ll have to shut it down just before the reboot happens.” He looked at you. “You know where the button is?”

You turned your head and pointed to the little box next to the door.

“Good. Press it exactly when I tell you, otherwise none of the rest matters.”

Zim laughed. “No pressure, huh?”

Dr. Membrane look up at him, a nervous smile betraying him. “Yeah... hey, promise you won’t kill me? I hate to sound like an asshole but...”

“Damn, I was _so_ looking forward to that.”

You rolled your eyes and snapped your fingers. “ _Focus you idiots._ ”

Dr. Membrane began to tap his foot nervously. “Yeah, right. Seventy-four seconds.”

Oh God that was soon. You felt nauseous. What this going to work? Shit, it was going to be dark, how were you going to see to get out? And what about the guards? The other personnel? You’d been ordered to stand perfectly still in the dark, everyone would be able to hear you. You could trip over someone, you’d get found out.

“You’re hyperventilating.”

Zim’s voice was soft and calm, but it still jerked you back to real life.

“It’s going to be okay. Go on,” he jerked his head over towards the wall where the shutoff button was. “You can do this.”

Your heels clacked in the silence, and you raised your hand, resting your palm against the flat of the button. You swallowed around the dryness in your mouth.

“Fifteen seconds,” Dr. Membrane said.

There was a knock on the door and you could barely hear the guard calling from the other side to hurry up and get out. You clutched at your stomach.

If you didn’t make it, this would cost you your job. And then it would cost you your life for treason. You succeeded or you died. Your fingers trembled against the button.

“Four.”

Were the lights dimming or was your vision going black?

“Three.”

No no no, you weren’t ready, you couldn’t do this. You’d never pull this off.

“Two.”

His gentle voice barely made it through the cotton in your ears. “Just breathe, I’m right here.”

“ _Now_.”

You raised your other hand to slap it over top of the other, feeling the click of the lock just before the lights shut off with a thunderous and heavy boom.

A chirp sounded throughout the complex to signal the system shutdown process. You sighed in relief and pulled the keys for the handcuffs out of the box, suddenly aware of how much you couldn’t see. Being mute was one thing, but being practically blind made you feel entirely vulnerable.

Suddenly you felt a pair of hands on your arms and a soft voice began talking you down while the keys were removed from your fingers. “It’s okay, just keep breathing. Try and stay focused.” You heard the click of both cuffs before they clattered to the floor. “I need you to trust me, can you promise me that?”

You nodded, unsure if he’d be able to see.

“Good.” He walked you over presumably to where Dr. Membrane was standing with the box of confiscated goods. “Alright four eyes, I need you to hold this up for me.”

You couldn’t see anything, but you could hear things you didn’t normally pick up. It made you hyperaware of every tiny sound. Particularly the fleshy puncture noises that probably came from that egg thing fusing itself to Zim’s back. You swallowed and made a face.

“Son of a _bitch_ that still hurts. Okay, I’m going out first, you’re going to stand on the other side of the hall from the door and play dumb. You,” His hands brushed against your cheek and your breath caught, “are going to follow behind me, until I find – did someone download a floor plan into this thing? Ooh, there’s a handy service hall we could take to the east exit. _Nice_.”

“Wait wait, hold on,” Dr. Membrane said. “How are you going to get past the guards? There’s personnel everywhere and she can’t see in the dark.”

Zim gave him a quiet and guttural laugh. “What did you think the staff was for?”

You heard the whip of air and hiss of polished metal on metal. Had that bland looking metal pipe been a weapon? Jesus technology was really getting away from you.

Dr. Membrane sounded horrified. “I’m sorry, you’re just going to slaughter your way through to the exit?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Oh... well okay then.”

“So let’s get the door open.”

Zim moved you to stand somewhere at the ready, and you listened in the dark while he and Dr. Membrane went to work on busting open the door. There were a handful of shredding metal sounds, the clinks of shrapnel and tiny gears clattering onto the floor, and then two strained huffs as the door began to slide open, just enough to let you all through.

The guard on the other side sounded like he’d begun to panic. “Hey woah woah! You can’t-!” You smelled the blood almost as quickly as you heard the squishy sounds of his flesh being sliced open, and you gagged.

Then Zim’s hand grabbed your wrist and his breath ghosted across your cheek. “Stay close and keep up. If you can keep your footsteps quiet we’ll get out of here a lot faster.”

You were pulled down the hall almost before you got your heels off, and tried to keep on the balls of your feet so your heels wouldn’t pound into the concrete. Zim was utterly silent. You couldn’t see a damn thing, and there was no way to know how many people you’d run by. A few times you heard comments in passing – “Did you feel that?” – but were almost out of earshot before they even finished asking.

On two occasions he pressed you against a wall to deal with someone you couldn’t run around. Because you couldn’t see who the person was you didn’t bother worrying about how bad you should feel. After the second time you felt his breath down your neck again and your knees nearly gave out.

“Less than two minutes, you good?”

You nodded, a cold shiver going up your spine and the backs of your arms. Could he see well enough to notice the redness of your cheeks? The thought kept your mind so preoccupied you were startled when you heard another door open.

“Service hall, let’s go.”

The service halls had dim red lights that were on a circuit separate from the rest of the main power lines, so despite the system reboot, they were still on. You almost wished they weren’t because you were immediately struck by the dark splatters across the side of Zim’s uniform. They were small, but it still made your insides squirm.

He led you down a long narrow pass, and then cut sharp to the left. After a few yards the floor began to slope, the east service exit opened out by the lake – you were so close. You reached the door with about forty seconds to spare.

He set the staff against the wall and felt around the doorframe. You were too distracted with the bloody set of spearheads the size of your hands to notice much of what he was doing. You only looked back up because you heard the click of a lock, and then both of his hands were cupping your face. “You ready to go?”

Go? As in leave? “ _No no, I can’t leave the facility, I have to cover for –_ “

Zim shook his head, his face stern. “There’s nothing to cover. They have footage of neither of you leaving before lockdown, if you stay you die, and that is _not_ an option.”

He took up his staff and kicked through the door surprising both guards on the other side. When he finished with them he pulled you out into the bright morning sun.

Where you were both exposed.


	10. Chapter 10

Somehow you’d forgotten the small detail of the fact that it was _still broad fucking daylight outside_. There were guards all along the fence. Oh Christ, the _fence_. How were you going to get over the barbed wire? You couldn’t climb, and you’d break your legs on the way down. And the perimeter guards all had _guns_.

You were both so dead. At least you could be proud that you even made it outside in the first place.

“Alright, hang on tight.”

What?

You were swept off your feet bridal style, and you instinctively clung to his neck. He took off at a sprint directly towards the fence and you could see the guards all raising their guns to take aim.

“Do me a favor and close your eyes.”

You did, and buried your face into his uniform, waiting for the sting of pain from a stray bullet. Instead, there was a rush of wind and your stomach felt like it was trailing five feet behind you. Were you airborne? The downward motion confirmed that yes, you had just scaled the goddamn fence and then gunfire suddenly sounded erratic and confused. You took a chance and peeked one eye open.

The fence was already thirty feet behind you – _Jesus Christ, how?_ – and the drop off from the lake into the ocean was approaching fast. Zim didn’t even feel like he was running anymore.

And you were right, he wasn’t.

A spindly looking set of four metal legs – which you assumed had catapulted the both of you clean over the complex’s last defense – were moving you away from the facility with all the speed and grace of a spider. Which made you shudder a little bit.

Zim used both feet to propel you over the last foot of grass before the ground plummeted twenty feet straight down. You gasped in instinctive fear, watching as the metal appendages caged around you and sunk into the sand for a much softer landing than you were expecting. About sixty yards to your right was the sewage pipe that dumped from the complex straight into the water. You were officially off the grounds.

“Holy shit I can’t believe any of that worked.”

You pushed against his chest and winced as the hot sand stung the bottoms of your feet. You needed a minute.

He kept his distance while you rubbed your arms and took deep, heavy breaths, pacing along the sand to keep your feet from burning. It was unreal, you’d made it out without even getting hurt. Of course you had to find somewhere to hide, but the worst was over.

“Hey, I don’t want to rush you, but I feel really naked and they’re probably sending trucks this way, so we gotta move.”

Right. You still had to outrun them.

He picked you back up, and just to keep yourself from getting nauseous, you kept your eyes closed and tried to focus on anything other than the air rushing past your ears. You ran the hem of his collar through your fingers, traced the seams of his shoulder cuffs with your fingertips, and listened to the rapid beating of his heart.

Soon you felt the rays of sunshine vanish and you assumed you’d found cover. He set you back down, this time the sand was much cooler against your stocking feet. You were tucked up under a boat dock next the city port, which was crawling with people. When you turned to him, asking what his plan was, you found him laying down on his back with one arm over his eyes, panting.

You peeked out from under the dock in the direction you’d come from, and only saw a very tiny and faint black speck way off down the beach. They were probably still barreling across the sand as fast as their trucks could take them, so you two had a few minutes max.

But he looked exhausted, so you sat down next to him and laced your fingers with his free hand, smiling when he squeezed back.

“I know they’re still hauling ass and we don’t have a lot of time. Where do you live?” he dropped his other arm and let your hand go so you could sign.

“ _I live in a dinky apartment at the old planetarium. They closed it down about a year ago so I’m mostly by myself._ ”

Zim smiled at you in what looked like disbelief, laughing. “Oh the irony.” He looked over back down the beach and groaned. “Looks like we gotta get moving.”

The other side of the boat dock opened on the backside of the loading platform for the barges, and the two of you were able to slink along behind the warehouses unseen. There were a few close calls, but for the most part no one saw. When he found a slightly excluded section of the port he scaled the nearest warehouse and vaulted from the roof onto the ledge of the opposite wall, where the city was. A squat little office overlooked the port and the two of you paused on its roof to watch the trucks race along the docked barges.

They were stopped by security and when the scuffle had them sufficiently distracted you slunk along the access road into the city. You pointed him in the direction of your apartment and decided to keep your eyes closed as he scaled buildings and leapt across rooftops. The higher up you were the less likely you were to be seen, considering how much he stuck out against the dull colors of the city.

When he finally stopped again you were on the rooftop of the building next door to the planetarium. It was a little cramped between the stairwell entrance and the raised lip of the roof, but you were able to peek over the side. “ _Why did we stop?_ ”

He slid down to the ground and propped his feet up against the ledge. “The first places they’ll check are our apartments, better to wait until they’ve sufficiently raided the place. Once they can’t find us they’ll concentrate on looking elsewhere and it’ll be safer to go inside.”

As much as you agreed with him, all you wanted right now was to lay down on your couch and take a nap. But you kept watch, thankful the sun was behind the access building for the stairs. After about half an hour he tapped your leg with his foot.

“Come sit down, we’ll hear them when they show up.”

You don’t know why you wanted to watch for them so bad, you weren’t going to be able to stop them from turning your apartment inside out. But your feet hurt and maybe if you couldn’t glance at the diner down the street every other minute you wouldn’t feel so hungry.

He held an arm out for you and huddled up next to him, still unable to relax in a way that was comfortable. “ _Do you want to talk?_ ” There was a lot to talk about that suddenly flooded your mind, things that made your face feel warm.

“Not yet, let’s wait until we can get inside.”

So you waited in silence.

Maybe another twenty minutes passed before you heard the sound of trucks screech to a halt close enough to make you jerk. You moved to scramble to your feet, but Zim held you down and put a finger to his lips, shaking his head. You listened as hard as you could, wincing at the sound of splintering wood.

They’d broken open the door.

There were a few yells you could hear, and then it was quiet for about a minute. When you heard a window shatter you began to wring your hands nervously. Quiet, and then another broken door. Your eyes began to well a little at the thought of them raiding your home and you worried your bottom lip.

Zim’s hands ran up and down your arms, trying to soothe you. “I promise there’s nothing they can break that I can’t fix, okay?”

You nodded, leaning into him. It was just things, you told yourself, at least the two of you were safe. That was the important part.

Eventually the truck engines started up again and you could hear them drive off down the road. After the silence stretched on for a while Zim let you up to take a look. The outside didn’t look so bad, but the front door was barely hanging onto its hinges. The busted window led to your living room. You couldn’t even imagine what the inside looked like.

He scaled you down the wall, looked down the alley both ways, and then let you take the lead into the building. The door immediately opened to a set of stairs with a set of wide double doors to your right that accessed the back room of the dome. At the top of the stairs was the door to your apartment, which was swung wide open with the doorknob and deadbolt laying on the floor.

Your heart sank and you could feel warm tears prick your eyes.

There wasn’t anything they hadn’t touched. All of your furniture was turned over, two of your dining room chairs were broken, most of the pictures on the wall had been torn down, all of the cupboards in your kitchen were open, glass dishes were shattered all across the floor, your house plants had been knocked over, bedsheets torn off, three broken lamps, your closet practically gutted with haphazard piles of clothes everywhere.

You took two small steps forward in a trance before he stopped you.

“Careful,” he pointed at the wood floor, covered in broken glass, “don’t move.”

Zim crossed your living room, bits of glass crunching under his boots, and brushed off your somehow unscathed ottoman. Then he picked you up and stood you on top of it. “Stay here while I get the glass off the floor, then we can work on everything else.”

You sat cross-legged and watched him move about your small apartment with a broom, moving all the glass into a pile by the sliding glass doors. It was surreal in a lot of ways. He moved with more grace than most humans, which didn’t match the mundane task of sweeping at all. Every time he stepped on a shard he didn’t see one of his antennae would prick up, you noticed it was almost always the right one. He moved smaller objects out of his way with his feet, like a fussy mother would. He seemed very particular about cleanliness, always brushing bits of broken glass off of flat surfaces and upholstery, places you wouldn’t think to check.

When he was done he put the broom back where he found it and came back to you.

You looked up at him, having almost forgotten your apartment was still in shambles. “ _You’ve been here a while, haven’t you?_ ”

He smiled bashfully, crossing his arms. “How could you tell?”

You pursed your lips, amused. “ _You sweep like a mom._ ”

“Thank you?”

Your shoulders bounced in a small laugh. “ _I guess we should get busy._ ”

While he righted all of your furniture – which you wouldn’t have been able to do by yourself – you put all of your clothes back into your closet. Then you made your bed, and stacked all of the intact dishes on the counter for you to put away. The two of you made quick work of most things, making a pile of pictures to be reframed, and another pile of broken things for Zim to fix. It was midafternoon when you finished, and you met him in the kitchen for lunch.

“ _Hungry?_ ”

“Starving.”

“ _Anything particular?”_

“I think I saw brownies in your pantry.”

“ _They’re all yours._ ”

While you waited for the oven to preheat you set out some things for yourself, astounded at how many dishes had been broken. As you were pulling a bowl down from a cupboard you felt one of his hands rest on your hip, sending a shiver along your skin.

“Hey, I’m gonna see if I can fix your doors and get them to lock. Do you care if I poke around the planetarium afterwards?”

The giddy little glint in his eye made you smile. “ _Go ahead, I’ll let you know when lunch is ready._ ”

He made pretty quick work of the doors. You caught him welding your deadbolt with one of those metal leg things, and he laughed at the bizarre look on your face. He was done with both doors before you were halfway done cooking your rice, and had been gone for nearly ten minutes when you pulled the brownies out of the oven. You left your veggies and rice in a pot on warm and figured the brownies would be cool enough to eat by the time you found him again.

You didn’t really spend much time in the planetarium anymore, the projector was broken and you didn’t even want to turn on the lights to see how many spiders were in the catwalks. The walls were painted all black and the rows of seats were all covered in dust, making you sneeze.

“Bless you!”

You fanned the dust away from your face and felt for the switch to the house lights. They weren’t very bright and some of them didn’t even turn on, but it was enough to see by. You found Zim on his back tucked underneath the projector in the middle of the room. You knocked against the wooden case to get his attention.

“Hang on, I need – _ow_.” He slid out and rubbed the side of his head.

“ _What were you doing?_ ”

“It’s broken, I wanted to see if I could fix it.”

You shook your head with a smile. “ _The model’s outdated._ ”

“Ye of little faith,” he tutted, following you back upstairs into the kitchen. “Oh, by the way, you wouldn’t happen to have anything I could wear, would you? Something an ex-boyfriend left behind?”

Once you’d finished plating the brownies you answered him, but kept your eyes elsewhere. “ _I haven’t had an ex-boyfriend since I moved out of my parent’s house._ ”

“Oh, well then I guess I’ll just have to walk around naked.”

You turned on him, nearly dropping your bowl of rice, too stunned to look like anything other than embarrassed at the thought.

He laughed, pulling off his gloves. “I’m _kidding_ , but I would like somewhere to put my uniform.”

You pointed in the direction of your bedroom and pressed your hand against your tilted head to sign for bed. You could find a spot in your closet later. While he dressed down you rearranged the pillows on the couch and set up lunch on the ottoman, and was astounded that your TV still worked. You were never home in the afternoon during the week, so you were still looking through channels when he sat down next to you.

“God I can’t wait for humans to figure out color TV, this is pitiful.”

You turned to give him some sort of look but became distracted so fast you’d practically forgotten what he’d said in the first place. Seeing the horrific lab photos was vastly different than seeing him lounging bare chested on your couch in person. It was one of those moments where you were _so_ glad you couldn’t talk, because you didn’t want to know what sort of noise you wouldn’t made if you could.

And he totally caught you staring.

“Well that’s a lot better than the face you made the first time you saw me naked.”

It took your brain a few seconds to catch back up with him, but you just went back to channel flipping and sunk into the couch instead of answering him. Hiding your blush was useless anyway. At least the bruises and marks from a few days ago were gone, it felt like such a lifetime ago now.

Zim took your plates back to the kitchen when you were done, and because he couldn’t see you, you allowed yourself to stare while he walked away. His muscles weren’t overly obvious, and the way his shoulder blades and hips swayed when he walked made you clench your legs together. You shifted on the couch, lost in thought as you stretched your legs to appease your sore knees and ankles.

When he came to sit back down he absentmindedly lifted your legs and draped them over his own, almost like he hadn’t even realized he’d done so. You moved one of the decorative pillows so you could wrap your arms around it, half hiding your face and how hard you were biting your lip.

He seemed to get lost in watching the movie you hadn’t been paying much attention to, like the exhaustion of your escape was finally catching up. His eyes were half closed and he was trailing the tips of fingers up and down along the backs of your calves, slow and gentle. It was so desperately hard not to think about, until he brushed up the back of your thigh, right up under the hem of your pencil skirt.

You could feel your eyes widen in surprised and your breath hitch, but he still didn’t seem to notice much. He did this a few more times before testing the boundary, just another inch or so under your skirt then around and between your legs on the way back down. You felt your naval clench and a warmth spread across your hips, and you ducked your head a little bit farther behind your pillow, steeling a quick glance to see if he’d noticed.

The impossible minute twitch of his lips told you that he knew exactly what he was doing. That _fucker_. You stared back at the TV, glaring internally. God had it really been so long since anyone had touched you that this one little thing was getting so far up under your skin? You should probably go change out of your work clothes anyway, but there was a sinful little part of your mind that wanted to see how far he’d push his luck.

Somehow, despite your wild nerves and rosy cheeks, you twisted your hips so you were laying more on your back. The shift sunk you a little lower into the couch, and pushed your skirt up a little farther. You didn’t dare look to see if he’d glanced at you, hiding your open-mouthed pants behind your pillow.

His hands never paused, gliding open palmed across your legs, the tips of his fingers always teasing the edge of your skirt a little bit at a time. He could reach all the way if he wanted to, if he thought you’d let him, but he seemed to like dragging it out. You glanced at him once or twice, noting the content look on his face as if he could do just this for hours.

“I think we should talk.”

You forced the blush from your cheeks while you lowered the volume, hoping you looked relaxed when you placed the pillow behind your back to prop you up. Of course he’d choose to talk while you felt flustered and distracted – especially by something so small.

“ _Where do you want to start?_ ”

Zim’s gaze trailed down to his hand, watching it brush up and down your legs, as if entranced that you were still letting him touch you. “Well, I never got to ask why you ran out of the room in terror the other day. I mean, I’m not _that_ scary looking, am I?”

The fact that he could sound so nonchalant while unraveling you with the touch of his fingers made you feel some type of way. “ _No, that... wasn’t about you. It was a uh..._ ” How much did you tell him? Was there a point in hiding anything anyway? “ _It was a programmed response._ ”

His eyes narrowed a little, as if your response had agitated him, but his hand never stilled. “A response to what?”

You couldn’t help looking away from him, like you were ashamed. Which was nonsense, you couldn’t control that They’d picked you out, chose you to kidnap in the middle of the night. “ _There’s a thing that... comes at night sometimes. I never remember anything, but sometimes when I wake up I have..._ ” You started shaking a little and your vision blurred out. Why was this so hard to talk about? “ _I’ve found marks before, and... and when I was little They..._ ” You didn’t try and stop your hands from pulling down the collar of your button down shirt, exposing the slanted pair of scars just under your throat.

Zim looked off to the side, a low baritone sound making his chest vibrate, lasting only a second before he cleared his throat and gave your leg and reassuring squeeze. “You don’t have to say anything else, I won’t ask.”

You nodded, wiping your damp eyes and blinking them back into focus. “ _What else did you want to talk about?_ ”

He smiled at the floor, a breathy laugh betraying his nerves. “Well there’s always the obvious sexual tension~”

You nearly chocked on your spit with how fast your lungs expelled the air, and you immediately covered your face with both hands, having completely forgotten about how vulnerable your legs still were.

You could hear him laughing. “Oh come _on_ , it had to come up eventually. I mean I hate to be forward, but I can smell it.”

If you could scream you would’ve, but settled for throwing one of your decorative pillows at him as hard as you could. He didn’t have to be so _crass_. God you were ashamed to know he could smell your hormones in the first place, he didn’t have to make you _aware_ of it.

He was still giggling when he tossed the pillow back at you, his one hand going back to rubbing up and down your legs as if it had never stopped. “Look, I’m just ecstatic that you aren’t completely disgusted by me, why did you think I hid for so long?”

You lowered your hands to look at him, the blood still warming your cheeks. “ _Were you really that afraid?_ ”

“ _Yes_ , I was horrified. I knew pretty much as soon as we met, and then after that all I did was convince myself that once you saw me you wouldn’t...” He paused, sighing. “Humans get to date around as much as they want, I only get _one_ shot to make a good impression because you don’t imprint like I do. If you don’t like me, I’m fucked. The _wrong_ way.”

Honestly you couldn’t help but laugh a little, even if the subject was making you all levels of embarrassed. “ _I’ve just... I mean it’s been so long since I even dated anyone, and I’ve_ never _... God this is so embarrassing._ ”

“If it makes you feel any better, neither have I.”

You scowled at him, but it probably didn’t look convincing. “ _It’s not the same, besides you’re more confident than I am, I don’t think I could ever... I mean..._ ” You floundered for the pillow and buried your face in it, biting your lip as you felt his hand push your skirt nearly up to your hips.

He hummed. “Would you feel better if all you had to do was tell me when to stop? I promise I’ll always ask for permission first, deal?”

A lot more than just your face flushed, but you nodded, your heart thudding rhythmically in your ear drums.

His lips twitched, he looked satisfied. “Can I kiss you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahaaaahhh I'm a bitch~


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry there's not more actual substance to this. Also, I finally have a fully functioning version of Word on my new laptop now - after two hours - so take these 2k words of fluff as my small victory.

You might have nodded your head but the rest of your body seemed unsure, as if it were anticipating more than what he’d asked. He moved slowly and gracefully, the way a jaguar might stalk a rabbit, and the flash of doubt in your mind suggested that perhaps that might have been the case.

It wasn’t hard for you to trust, generally. At least most of the assets you worked with were upfront about things, and you’d always been prepared for people to disappoint you. But Zim was different. He was entirely like both and unlike either.

Your breath hitched as he loomed over you, acutely aware of every place your bodies touched. One of his legs was pushing between your own, pulling your pencil skirt up with it, inch by inch. One arm brushed against your cheek as he slipped it behind your neck, his other hand coaxing your right leg over his hip as he closed the space between you.

You couldn’t seem to breathe deep enough to stay focused, suddenly intimidated by the situation. You were too afraid to look at him and too embarrassed to touch his bare skin to ask him to slow down. But you did want to touch, you wanted to know how different he was from you, physical contact - regardless of how much you hadn’t ever wanted to touch the other assets - had always been forbidden. And now here, in the sanctity of your own home, you were still too timid to indulge yourself.

Evidently he noticed, and slowed his movements considerably, as if he were trying to approach a skittish animal. You hadn’t realized you’d closed your eyes, and you opened them just a little when you felt him nuzzle the side of your face. You could also hear a quiet and distinct cooing sort of noise against your ear - it made you shiver. His skin was softer than you expected it be, and what little you could smell of him was nice, and the gentle hum in his chest was very soothing. You could feel him smile into your skin as you relaxed.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked quietly, careful not to move.

Another shiver passed along your shoulders, and you shook your head, your vision entirely obstructed by one of his broad shoulders. You closed your eyes again, gasping as his warm breath ghosted over to your parted lips, where he hovered.

In a sudden wave of heated anticipation your legs clamped around his, your toes curling as you twitched around his hip. It was embarrassing honestly, your lips hadn’t even touched yet and your whole body was screaming, torn between protesting and begging. You felt guilty, he could smell your nervous energy but you weren’t in a position to explain that even you thought it was unwarranted.

Zim pressed his leg further between yours, the pressure making you twitch. When you gasped again he met your lips - but only barely. You could almost tell he was smiling even though his head was tilted, mouth open and lips hardly touching. He was waiting for you, and you couldn’t place how you could tell, but you knew – for _sure_ – that you’d have to meet him at least the rest of the way. And you did, gingerly, without any sense of surety in your own ability to even kiss anymore because it had been so long. But as soon as you closed the rest of the gap you didn’t have to do much, he gladly took over.

At first your analytical mind kicked in, it was still technically during work hours and your brain found comfort in analyzation during times of stress. So for a moment you simply fell into autopilot and took notes. His lips were smoother than yours, his tongue was much longer and more dexterous than yours, and while the placement of his teeth were fairly identical they were _all_ sharp – though you could still identify canines, a primary and secondary set on top and a single set on bottom.

The mental comment of being on bottom suddenly brought you back to your current position, and your cheeks flared as you reeled to take in what had changed in your mental absence. Zim had one hand fisted in your hair, the other trailing up your back under your shirt, and his entire body from the waist down was pressing and grinding into you in rhythm. Some distant voice warned you to push away, that he was dangerous, what you were doing wasn’t safe, but the rest of you clung to him and prayed he wouldn’t pull away before you were ready.

It felt strange to touch him, not because his skin felt different – a dry smooth and slightly cool to the touch – but you were so used to your own hands and using them either to communicate or take care of yourself. Touching someone else, especially like this, was an opportunity you often wondered if you’d ever have again. It felt good to be allowed to touch someone else, to wrap your arms around his shoulders and trace your fingers down his spine, acutely aware of the way he moved in response, gasping in your mouth when you brushed somewhere sensitive.

After a few moments he forced himself to slow down, reducing his ravenous kisses to gently winding his tongue around your own. A new sound, low and rumbling, came from his chest as your hands rubbed mindless circles into his skin.

His hands moved and wandered, up and down your sides, over the curves of your hips, across your stomach where there was hardly any room between you. It was so easy to feel how hard he was holding himself back, and you wondered briefly, that if you didn’t say no at all, how far he’d go on his own. Would he make love to you, here, in the middle of your slightly less disheveled apartment?

Could he? Colonel Membrane had rattled off a lot that you didn’t latch onto, but you did remember something vague about Zim being… broken. Something unusual - _undesirable_ \- about him made him able to feel. But then, did he have an awareness of his own emotions? If _not_ feeling was normal for him, or them in general, did he have a basis for understanding his feelings to begin with?

So many questions.

He stopped, pulled away just slightly, and looked at you with a curious tilt of his head. “Are you okay? Should I stop?”

Dear God you did _not_ want him to stop, not _ever_. But… but maybe for a moment… just for now. You were distracted, but that had already been a lot for a first kiss, you supposed you should probably quit while you were ahead. You nodded, catching his lips one last time before he was out of reach as he sat up. A pleasant shiver ghosted along your back as you righted yourself, and you allowed the smile to tug at your lips. You felt… dreamy, and a little bit drowsy.

“Wow you’re beautiful,” he sighed, snapping you right back to your tiny assaulted home.

_Beautiful_? Is that what he’d just said? _You_? Your vision was already a little out of focus from your previous state of sleepy elation, now you were so wildly unprepared to receive such a compliment that your brain seemed to shut itself off in a pitiful attempt at sweeping it under the rug for later - or never, and you visually blacked out a little.

And now he sounded entirely unsure if he was supposed to apologize or act concerned. “Um, should I not have said that? I thought it was a compliment, I’m… sorry? I think?”

You shook your head, feeling your poor cheeks begin to burn up. “ _No no no, thank you, really. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to space out._ ”

His face was absolutely not convinced. “I didn’t offend you, did I?”

Well now you felt silly. “ _No, I’m flattered, I promise. I just… haven’t been flattered in a long time, I don’t get compliments so I’m not very good at taking them._ ”

The warmth of his smile seemed to rival that of your cheeks. “Well I guess I’ll just have to give you lots of practice. Maybe after a nap, you look exhausted.”

You were, and you just remembered how much you’d wanted one when the two of you were waiting around for your apartment to be violated. “ _I could use one_.”

He leaned in to kiss you on the cheek, moving his hands to pick you up as he stood, and carried you to your bedroom. “You change,” he said, setting you down gently, “I’ll go make sure everything’s locked up in case they decide to come back later and finish remodeling. I’m not really equipped to refinish your drywall if they decide to knock through this one for an open floor plan.” As he walked out he paused, looking at the aforementioned wall and between your bedroom and living room, like he’d given himself an idea before muttering quietly and leaving.

It was nice that you had a buffer between yourself and the mess around you. If he hadn’t been there you probably would’ve spent the rest of the day crying while you picked bits of broken glass out of your skin after giving up on trying to clean. But he’d kept your mind off it and made you laugh while he dealt with the worst. You felt so very fortunate for him.

When he came back you were changed into a pair of shorts and an oversize t-shirt, bent over into your closet making room for his folded uniform. You set it carefully under the row of hung dress shirts and closed the door. Zim’s arm was outstretched as he set his staff against the wall next to your bed, the metal shining under the ray of sunlight coming in from your bedroom window.

It was… sinister looking, even more so now that it was clean - no evidence of the blood it had shed only hours ago. It was thin and agile, tapered with smooth angles that you were amazed had somehow tucked away to make itself look unseemly. The two-foot metal rod now rested beside your bed, freshly cleaned and displayed in such a way as to invoke a sense of territorial awareness. Its own compact predatory nature wielded by an equally capable entity.

Just another thing that casually reminded you that Zim was incredibly dangerous.

You blinked and looked away before he was able to catch you staring, and moved to your window to pull the curtains. They didn’t shut out all the light, but the bright yellow of the late afternoon sun was dimmed to a soft, moody sepia glow - easy on the eyes and maybe a little romantic. Zim was already lounging on your bed when you turned back around, and the image struck you with enough force to make you gasp.

It looked like something out of a surreal painting, or novella, or old photograph. He looked so comfortable and in place, like you could take a still of the scene before you and hang it on a wall and look at it every day and not ever question whether or not it was right where it was supposed to be. Like something you might glance at everyday in passing but would fill you with comfortable and familiar warmth whenever you stopped to just get lost looking at it.

And as much as you’d love to just take a photo to keep all to yourself, you didn’t want to look weird standing around staring again. So instead you tried to solidify the image in your mind and crawled into bed next to him, pulling the thick comforter around you and up to your nose before nestling against your pillow. He shifted next to you to make sure you had plenty of room to get comfortable before settling himself.

“If you ever want me to leave just kick me out, I promise you won’t hurt my feelings,” he cooed, smiling.

You immediately shook your head and shifted closer, pressing yourself against him and reaching one hand out to rest on his stomach where he was laying on top of the blankets. He hummed and paused, then pulled the comforter out from underneath him so that you could snuggle him properly.

“Better?” he asked.

Since your hands were buried you answered by wrapping around him, draping one leg over his hip - since evidently that level of intimacy was okay - and tucking your head up under his chin. He wasn’t radiating a lot of body heat you noticed, but the temperature under the covers was almost perfect and you smiled against his bare skin.

Maybe it was the odd sense of security you felt with another presence in bed with you, or the gentle caress of his hand up and down your arm. Drowsiness faded into heaviness of mind, and you drifted quietly off to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I've been bouncing between using dropbox and google docs on my work computer when I can't get one or the other to work so picking up where I leave off isn't the easiest. But have some plot devices! Well, new ones anyway.

The sun had fully set beyond the horizon when you were back upstairs, you could tell by the color of the sky against the city backdrop through your sliding glass doors. They reminded you, then, that you’d wanted to take Zim up to the roof, to point out the stars you could see, and ask him what he knew. Perhaps after dinner, before bed, you’d let him follow you up the metal staircase and watch your little goodnight ritual.

You were lost in thought, aimlessly on your way to the kitchen to figure out dinner, when there was a faint knock downstairs. He’d been walking close enough behind you for you to feel him pause and turn, and your head followed. There was a second set of knocks.

“Stay here,” he said quietly, reaching into your bedroom for his staff. He crossed the living room silently and was able to open the door without a sound.

You stood frozen in the middle of the floor, feeling very vulnerable as your breath quickened. Had the colonel sent his men back? Were they double checking? Should you hide? Your hands shook, strained by your hunched shoulders, and even as you crept forward to listen, you could hear voices. There had been a yelp, and then a few quiet words you couldn’t make out before the door shut. There was an extra two pairs of footsteps coming up to the door and your imagination assumed the worst.

Maybe they’d caught him off guard, that could have been him yelling in surprise. If the colonel’s men were on their way upstairs you needed to hide. But you were petrified, a shaking statue square in the middle of your living room. A cover story, you needed a cover story - you’d been _kidnapped_. That could work, right? Escaped asset takes the assistant prisoner or something, they might fall for that one. Or what if - 

The door to your apartment opened and your hands immediately covered your eyes. Hiding had always been your reflex since you couldn’t scream for help, you’d relied on the ‘if I can’t see them then they can’t see me’ mindset when you were young. Of course, now, as an adult you knew that standing around in the middle of the room with your eyes covered was both not the same thing nor even remotely effective, but you’d been too terrified to move. 

“Oh thank _God_.”

Wait, you recognized that voice. Your hands dropped and your shoulders sagged with relief. Before you could sign Gretchen had crossed the room and pulled you into a murderous hug.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, I thought they’d caught you - _or worse_. I’ve _never_ seen him so angry before, you’re lucky to be alive.”

You bent to her death grip and rubbed up and down her back a few times before pulling away to look at her face. She was paler than normal and her hair was frizzed out of place, you could tell she’d been crying by the faint streaks of eyeliner running down her cheeks - which were a tad gaunt, so she probably hadn’t eaten since either. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen her so worried, especially not over you. “ _I’m okay, I promise. I’m sorry I made you worry._ ”

Suddenly a look of rage flashed across of her face as she stood up to her full height, whipping her head around to look past Dr. Membrane - who you only just realized was there - and glare at the facility’s only escapee. “Are you _crazy_!” she shrieked, marching over to a very threatened looking alien. “You could’ve gotten her killed!”

Zim’s hands rose in defense, one thumb hooked carefully around the staff he still carried. “Whoa whoa, hang on - “

“Do you have _any_ idea what kind of danger you’ve put her in!” Gretchen started to reach out like she was going to grab him until Dr. Membrane latched an arm around her shoulders to hold her back.

“Jesus Gretchen, careful, he’s still dangerous.”

You could see Zim roll his eyes behind him as Gretchen tried to jerk her way free.

“Yeah well, _so am I_.”

Before she could rip away from the Dr.’s grasp you stepped in and put both hands on her arm, tugging gently. When she looked down at you her eyes were still hard and angry, but she stopped fighting. You dropped your hands and tried to explain. “ _He got me back home safe and sound. They came and wrecked my apartment right after, we’ve been cleaning ever since they left. But I’m okay, really._ ”

She didn’t look convinced, but she did take a deep breath and moved to step away from Zim, though not without keeping a watchful on him. You noticed that Dr. Membrane pointedly kept between the two.

There was a quiet beat of silence before Gretchen spoke again. “No asset has ever escaped, and we’ve come across equally advanced specimens a dozen times over. But you took her with you, and now she’s on the wanted list with you, dead or alive.”

Both of Zim’s antennae twitched downwards and for just a split second you thought he looked ashamed before he set his jaw. “And what would have happened if I’d left her there?”

Gretchen gave an incredulous sigh. “I don’t know, but - “

“He would’ve done worse to her than he did to me,” he replied quietly.

She sniffed and wrinkled her nose. “You don’t know that.”

Zim’s voice rose a hair as he stepped forward, ignoring Dr. Membrane altogether. “Yes. I. Do. Those _things_ he keeps in there see into her head every single fucking day. You’re delusional if you don’t think, even for a second, that he wouldn’t coerce one of them into telling him exactly what to do to her to make her _come unraveled_.” He watched her face as it started to consider the weight of his words. “He would’ve used her to get to me and, just from personal experience, I know he’s full of all kinds of disgusting ideas.”

Gretchen bit her lip, darted her eyes between him and you, before sighing in defeat and hugging her jacket close. “So what, then? You’ve made her a fugitive of a branch of the military that the government doesn’t even officially acknowledge as existing in the first place. I’m assuming you don’t have any kind of plan.”

You watched as Zim’s expression morphed from annoyed frustration to exhaustion as he turned and sat down on the couch, both hands gripping his staff as his head bent forward. You knew what guilt looked like, you’d seen it in yourself plenty.

“Uh huh,” Gretchen huffed, “that’s what I thought.”

You pinch your brows and smacked her on the arm. “ _Don’t be mad at him, getting him out was_ my _idea in the first place, remember?_ ”

She bristled under her jacket. “Oh trust me, _I remember_. But I didn’t think he’d leave a _trail_ of _dead bodies_ behind! And the only person left to take the fall for the whole thing was - “

Dr. Membrane finally stepped in, taking Gretchen’s flailing hands in his own. “Gretchen, I know you’re upset, but - “

“I am _beyond_ upset!”

“I understand,” he continued, his voice gentle in a way that you’d never really heard before. “But listen, okay? She was never meant to be in that position forever, it’s not healthy. The only reason Dad kept her was because no one else seemed to be able to handle the stress, and I still don’t know how she does it. But it was time, she needed an out.”

Well now it seemed a lot of truths were coming out, but you had no idea they’d been lobbying for your replacement. “ _He was trying to replace me?_ ”

Dib opened his mouth and closed it, not so much debating on whether or not to tell you, but more how to go about it. “You have dinner yet?”

You fingers flexed before signing that no, you hadn’t. “ _I hadn’t even figured out what to make for dinner, why?_ ”

He smiled but it was easy to see that it wasn’t exactly a happy one. “I’ll go get take out and come back, then we’ll talk. How’s that?”

In your surprise at his offer you’d nearly missed Zim’s antennae perk up eagerly.

But Dib certainly noticed. “You eat take out?”

He grinned. “Sesame chicken with extra chow mein.”

The idea of Zim eating chinese food made you want to laugh enough to rival the looks of confused discomfort on Dib and Gretchen’s faces.

“Huh,” he said, abjectly stunned as he made a note of everything else before leaving, his heavy boots thudding down the stairs at half speed until the the final solid ‘ _clunk_ ’ of the outside door heralded his departure.

Once he was gone Gretchen gave another heavy sigh, pulling you back into her arms. “I’m so sorry, if I had any idea I would’ve… I don’t know, I would’ve done _something_. I just feel like I’m partially responsible.”

You returned the hug but shook your head, not wanting to allow her the opportunity to think that anything that had happened had been her fault. When you pulled away you made sure your hands were gentle. “ _This wasn’t about you, Gretchen. I’m glad you were able to help, we wouldn’t have gotten out if you hadn’t. But this isn’t your fight, so don’t make it come to that._ ”

She nodded, her loose violet curls bobbing with her head. “I know, but… I mean, what are you gonna do? Where are you gonna go? Until the colonel sees your dead body for himself he’s not going to let this go, it’s not safe for you here.”

It hadn’t exactly crossed your mind that you’d need to pack up and move, or at least be prepared to. But somehow, it wasn’t much of a worry. You looked back to Zim, who still seemed utterly defeated despite having made it out alive at all.

Gretchen’s hysteric tone of voice crept back again. “What? _Him_? You can’t go with him! He’s… he’s a - “

His eyes flashed. “He’s sitting _right here_.”

She huffed. “And he also _doesn’t have a plan_.”

For a moment, all he did was look at her, study her face, twitching both antennae intermittently. Finally the defensive wall he’d put up came down, just a little. “I get that you don’t like me, and that’s fair. But what do you _want_ from me?” His tone was soft, softer than you’d ever heard with those words before.

Gretchen seemed like she didn’t know what do with them. “I…” Just the wet look in her eyes told you this was the first she’d ever thought about it, and the anger took a step back. “I just want her to be safe. That’s all. I guess, just because of the trouble you’ve caused, I didn’t really think that you’d be able to give that to her.”

In most general situations and conversations, you were an onlooker. All you did was observe, nod or shake your head, and act like a wallflower. It wasn’t like people knew sign language and could communicate with you, aside from the people you worked with or who you’d see often enough to where they’d picked up a few things. But now, it felt weird to be a wallflower, because everyone present could understand you, and you had a say in this matter.

“ _I trust him_.”

Gretchen looked from your steady hands to the surety in your face, and her eyes grew sad. “Do you?”

You nodded.

She pressed her lips together and sat down on your ottoman, defeated. “Okay… I don’t, but I know that it’s not my decision. As long as you’re sure, I trust _you_.”

Gretchen had always acted like a big sister to you, and stuck up for you more times than you’d ever be able to count. People had not been very pleased when you’d joined the team, and tried to make it very clear that none of them had any intention of ever learning to communicate with you because it would be too much of a hassle. But Gretchen felt different, right from the beginning. She saw the fear and worry in your eyes and took you almost as her own. She used to come over more often, especially when she was learning to understand you.

This had been the first time in a long time she’d visited.

You walked over and bent forward, wrapping both arms around her shoulders, giving a little squeeze as she hugged back. When you pulled away to look at her she was almost smiling. “ _I’m happy, I promise._ ”

She seemed to relax a little more, and nodded faintly. “That’s better than I can say for most of us. So, plan.”

Zim finally spoke up from behind you, and you could hear a sly grin in his voice. “I’ll _bomb_ the place.”

Gretchen shrieked. “What? _No_! You can’t - _bomb_ the place!”

He hummed. “You’re right, too much attention. I’ll put toxic gas in the ventilation system, nice and quiet.”

You could tell he was being facetious, but either Gretchen wasn’t amused or she couldn’t tell.

“No! No mass murdering! Are you insane?”

“Technically the answer to that is relative to who you ask. What if I built a tiny robot to look like a fly and filled it with poison? I could just pilot that bad boy in there, one good sting, and Colonel Asshole drops like a bag of bricks. That’s humane, right?”

While Gretchen floundered for a rebuttal you nodded emphatically. “ _I like that idea, maybe they’ll make a murder mystery about his death once he’s been a cold case for at least a decade._ ”

“Well by then it might actually be in _color_.”

Gretchen was not on board. “Will you two take this seriously? This doesn’t have to result in _murder_! The two of you just need somewhere to go, _safely_.”

Zim scoffed. “Oh no, I’m not going anywhere until I see that piece of shit _croak_. This isn’t about covering our trail, this is fucking _personal_.”

She rolled her eyes and you looked between them.

“Look, you’re not the first asset to have been… violated, and you’re not going to be the last. It’s shitty, _it is_ , but it’s not worth going back.” Her posture, in all its professionalism, did look soft and apologetic.

“ _Violated_?” he laughed. “Violated. No, what he did wasn’t just…” The anger in his voice and eyes came on so quickly, but faded as the memory came back to him. Suddenly he looked very uncomfortable and ashamed, and tore his eyes away from Gretchen’s gentle stare. He looked down the length of the staff he still held clutched in both hands, trying to ignore how much he was shaking. “He took it way too far, it stopped being objectively scientific pretty quickly. He _made_ it personal because of…” His eyes flicked up to you, and then fell back to the floor, hardening as the anger came back. “I’m gonna watch the fucker die, I suggest you stay out of my way.”

You stood awkwardly, again bombarded with so many thoughts and feelings just from a small handful of words.

You’d seen the files, even just glancing over them - because you couldn’t stomach much else - told you that the Colonel had not been entirely professional. He didn’t like Zim, that had been very clear, but knowing that his mistreatment had been exponential just because of you made you feel sick. It wasn’t your _fault_ , and you knew that, but something _awful_ had happened that the pictures obviously hadn’t shown. Perhaps when things were quiet later you’d ask him if he was willing to share.

Of course, then there was the matter that Dr. Membrane was about to lose his father. He’d never explicitly said so, but you knew he wasn’t fond of the man, nobody really was. In fact, you wondered if he’d miss him at all.

But he’d already lost his mother, would the idea of losing both parents change his mind? Would he want his father to live? Or would he feel indifferent either way? 

All these emotions were exhausting you. And you were getting really hungry.

“ _Can we talk about this more later? I need a break._ ”

Gretchen groaned a little and rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to get so hyped up, it’s been… a day. For everyone.”

Zim got up to leave for your bedroom about the same time you heard the double wide doors downstairs open and close. While Gretchen went to help Dib bring up dinner, you made a comfortable space on your living room floor to eat - there still weren’t enough chairs intact for the dining table. Dr. Membrane came in and started setting everything up on the small coffee table, and you paused for a good whiff before heading into your bedroom to get some extra pillows off your bed.

You tried to be very nonchalant about walking the parameter of your bed to get to the other side, quietly walking around Zim, who was standing at the foot of your bed. He’d put his long red tunic back on and had one leg propped up, fastening the garters to his upper thighs.

No of course you didn’t look, you hardly noticed… well, you didn’t _stare_ , but maybe you looked… just a little. _Damn, how does he have such nice legs?_ You were here to get extra pillows, not peek at the hot alien dressing in your bedroom. In fact, you’d just stack the pillows up until you couldn’t see anything but where you were going, and then you wouldn’t be able to catch yourself staring. You maybe had a few inches to see by to get back around, which was _plenty_.

But, apparently, he’d already caught onto you and your staring, and snuck a hand around your waist as you walked by. When you paused, your heart fluttering helplessly in your chest, he picked up the topmost pillows - just enough to see your face - and leaned in.

Having already been surprised by his want of your attention kept you just unfocused enough to be startled by his lips. The kiss wasn’t much of anything other than simple, but evidently the fact that it was happening at all was enough to burn your cheeks. It wasn’t particularly deep or overly gentle, but somehow it was still full of feeling, even though he’d only caught you as you were walking by.

Domestic.

You gasped a little and sighed when he pulled away, and scowled when he dropped the borrowed pillows back into your arms with a smile. Oh, so it was over then, and you were expected to just go about your business like everything was normal and you didn’t have a small fluttering kaleidoscope in your stomach? Rude.

But it was fine, not the first time he’d flustered you, and regaining your composure was literally your _job_. Or… had been your job anyway. He was just being cheeky because you made it so easy, as long as you kept a straight face nobody would know.

“Are you okay? Your face is a little red.”

 _God dammit!_ You dropped the pillows and arranged them on the couch and chair, trying to smile with a nod.

Gretchen was smarter than that, and not only did she see right through your little white lie, but she also pursed her smiling lips in a way that told you she knew exactly why you were flustered. When she caught your eye and you glowered at her - and how easily she could read you - her smile only broadened. “What, it’s sweet.”

Dr. Membrane looked up from the spread on the coffee table. “What? What is?”

You shook your head and flicked your wrist, “ _Nothing._ ”

Zim walked around behind you to find a place to sit. “What’s nothing?” He leaned around to look at you and smiled, “Your face is red - ”

You twisted and gave him a light jab in the ribs, making him wince and laugh.

”I’m a jerk,” he sang, rubbing his side and pulling his chow mein into his lap. Gretchen and Dr. Membrane both watched discretely as he fitted a pair of chopsticks between his fingers as if he’d done it a thousand times before. The feeling of eyes on him made him look up and pause. “What?”

Dr. Membrane looked questioningly at the chopsticks. “How long have you been stationed here again?”

Zim sighed, “I _live_ here, dickhead.“

The doctor put his free hand up in defense, the other occupied with trying to wrestle noodles with his own chopsticks - and far less gracefully. “Sorry, I just… part of the debriefing is learning not to treat assets like intelligent people. I might know better but - “

“Humans are naturally programmed to obey orders? Yeah, I get it.” Zim filled his mouth noodles before anyone could say anything, not a perfect scapegoat but at least he could pretend to have manners.

Gretchen, however, wasn’t going to wait until she was finished chewing, but at least put her hand up to cover her mouth. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

It would have been an awkward silence waiting for Zim to reply, aside from the fact that you wished you could talk about anything else, so you were glad when Dr. Membrane spoke up.

“No, he’s right. It’s a long and complicated story, and nobody is sure if any one group has the whole story right. But the modern human race has been genetically coded to be and act subservient for… well, since the beginning basically. It’s not easy to detect, but it’s part of our DNA and it’s been used to turn us into slaves.”

Gretchen stared flatley at her boyfriend from across the coffee table, finally swallowing so she could argue freely. “I’m sorry, _what_?”

His cheeks flushed a little. “It’s… I dunno, it’s deep stuff, I’m sorry. But he’s right.”

You pressed your lips together and looked down at the takeout box in your lap, feeling uncomfortable. There were other things you _should_ be talking about, despite your not wanting to, but it was probably better than this. “ _Tell me why I needed to leave._ ”

Dr. Membrane almost didn’t catch your hands, and it took him a moment to put together what you were asking. “Oh, right... “ He sighed, barely halfway done with his dinner. “You don’t know this, but your position was supposed to _always_ be temporary. There was supposed to be a quick turn around rate, maybe every three or four months tops and someone new would take over. Do you know how many people we went through before we found someone who could last more than three weeks?”

You shook your head.

“Eleven. Eleven people did your job before you, and none of them lasted even half as long as they were supposed to. Do you know how many of them were carried out on stretchers?”

Your shoulders twitched, you shook your head again.

“Eight. Six of them died before they were able to get them out of the building. One was found dead in his apartment the following morning. We never found the last one, just articles of his clothing in the forest four miles from here, but no body.”

You shivered.

You were supposed to be dead, then.

At least, apparently that’s what everyone had expected.

While he was talking you were able to stomach two bites before suddenly you were too anxious to eat. But the obvious question needed to be asked, so you raised your hands timidly, your fingers shaking. “ _Then why am_ I _still here?_ ”

The doctor shrugged his shoulders. “I think my father wanted to run a few tests at first, to see if there was anything obvious. But I guess either he didn’t get around to it or he was afraid if he interfered something would happen. He had a few people debriefed on the side, just in case, but you just stuck it out and that was the end of it.”

You took a moment to breathe, feeling your legs begin to shake under the pillow in your lap. When you looked up at Gretchen, who was being oddly quiet, the somber look on her face made your skin start to feel clammy. You might have halted the conversation altogether if you hadn’t felt a gentle but firm hand on your shoulder.

Zim’s eyes weren’t soft, but they were full of surety, and that, at least, you could find comfort in.

For a little while anyway. You’d probably see Them soon.

You could always feel it coming.


End file.
